Unwanted Temptations
by ad544
Summary: Four superstars are plagued with self doubt and pain due to the temptations life has placed in their path. Not knowing whether to succumb or resist, the decisions they make will affect them forever. ChristyJohn, StacyRandy, others.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE.

"We can't do it here!"

John Cena rolled his eyes as he unwillingly lifted his hands off his girlfriend's waist and tried to ignore the growing bulge in his pants.

Torrie Wilson crossed her arms across her chest and leaned against the elevator wall. She frowned as she caught the disappointed look John was sending her.

"Don't look at me like that John. Just because I don't wanna get busy on an elevator doesn't mean we won't do it later. If you're nice then we can do whatever you want, but only in the room and nowhere else. Someone might catch us!" she exclaimed. She had explained this to him many times before. The blond diva didn't understand why her boyfriend didn't get it. She knew he had an almost unquenchable thirst for sex, but she had never been much for doing it anywhere else but in the safety of their bedroom. If he didn't understand, then she could just refuse to do anything with him. Something she had done on occasion, just to make him understand.

"Ya know sometimes you gotta think outside the box baby girl." John thought about his upcoming match with Booker T. Anything to get his mind off what could have happened if Torrie wasn't so prissy. John sighed. He and Torrie had been going together for almost 3 months and as much as it pained him to admit it, she wasn't as much fun as he had first thought she was. Before they went out, she would ooze sex from every pore in her body. She would tease him with come-ons and explicit references. The young superstar thought that maybe if they were going out she would give it up. Not so. Torrie wouldn't do anything in front of anyone else. She flinched anytime he even laid a hand on her when anyone else was watching and she had become a nuisance as of lately. He suspected it was because they weren't giving her the airtime she thought she deserved, but he didn't understand why she was taking out her frustrations on him.

"I don't like to think outside the box. And besides, you know I hate public displays of affections." Torrie flipped her hair as she walked through the opening doors of the elevator. John shrugged and followed her, adjusting his hat. Maybe he would get lucky later?

"Hey guys!"

An energetic Dawn Marie at the end of the hallway greeted them.

"Hey girl!" replied Torrie happily. John shook his head and waved a hello to the smiling brunette. Deep down, he felt sorry for her. She played the biggest bitch on screen but backstage she was one of the sweetest girls he had ever met. It pained him to think of how many times Torrie had made fun of her behind her back. Sometimes it surprised him how fake Torrie could be. As soon as Dawn Marie turned her back, she was overflowing with insults for the "desperate, fat, slut" as Torrie had often said. John didn't necessarily agree with her but he supposed that what Dawn didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"So did you guys hear?" asked Dawn excitedly.

"Whassup?" asked John, feigning interest. Truthfully he didn't care, but he felt he at least owed Dawn her moment in the spotlight for all the shit his girlfriend talked on her.

"Well, supposedly we're getting someone from Raw. I don't know who but I heard it was a diva. Oh, I hope its Stacy! I miss her so much," she said.

"Stacy needs to stay on Raw with those super hero freaks. How pathetic is that gimmick? Super Stacy? C'mon, we're not in grade school anymore," said Torrie her voice dripping with disdain. John knew the real reason she didn't like Stacy was because of all the attention she was getting, even if it was on a different show.

"Oh don't be mean Torrie! I think their gimmick is cute. And besides I talked to her and she says she's really having fun working with them," protested Dawn. "Anyways, I have to go get ready, see you two later." She gave them a grin and walked through the doors of the women's locker room.

"Does she ever shut up?" muttered Torrie as soon as the door closed.

"Babe she just wants to talk," said John, taking Torrie's hand in his own.

Torrie shook his hand off and crossed her arms across her chest once again. A gesture John had soon learned to interpret as her being annoyed.

"Well I really hope it's not Stacy coming to RAW. I hope it's not a diva at all. I mean, we really don't need any more bimbos like Dawn running around. Did you see that shirt she had on?"

John fought back a groan as he heard Torrie continue to whine. Here they went again.

(X X X)

"Are you excited sweetheart?"

Christy Hemme smiled at Teddy Long. He really was a sweet man. In the few minutes she had been in his office, she felt more at ease then she had ever been with Eric Bischoff.

"I'm ready. The only thing I've ever known is Raw and I'm excited to be here on Smackdown," replied Christy smiling. If everyone were as welcoming as he was, she would have no problem adjusting.

"Well that's good to hear. As soon as the show starts, I'll be introducing you. Now, I know you may be nervous seeing as how your still new at this, but don't worry. We have a lot planned for you. At some point you'll be involved in some mixed tag team matches and some matches of your own fo' sho'," continued the general manager. He shot her a reassuring smile as Christy tapped her fingers along his desk nervously.

"That's good to hear Mr. Long. On Raw the only thing I was used for was T&A and I would really like to make a name for myself here for my wrestling," explained Christy. They had told her that she was going to be used more in ring to boost the women's division. She didn't understand why they had chosen her and not someone more experienced like Trish Stratus, but she was in no position to argue.

"Don't worry about that now," Teddy assured. "As long as you keep training and looking like your pretty self everything will be aight. Now I have to let you go because I have a meeting with another one of your fellow divas. Torrie Wilson, have you heard about her doll?"

Christy tried to hide a smile. Sure, she had heard about Torrie Wilson. She had heard about how difficult she was being and how hard she was to work with because of how much she thought she deserved to be in the spotlight. She hoped she wouldn't have to meet her anytime soon because she didn't want to start off on the wrong foot in a new company, but she supposed she would have to see her eventually.

"I've heard a little about her," she admitted.

Teddy Long noticed her smile and let out a laugh. "From your expression I can tell it hasn't been too good. And let me tell you all those rumors about her being a bitch are quickly becoming true."

Christy stood up, chuckling at how frank Teddy was. At that moment, there was a knock at the door and before Teddy had a chance to say anything, the door was swung open and a scantily clad blond woman barged in, followed by a very bored looking man.

"What up playa?" asked Teddy completely ignoring who Christy figured must be Torrie.

"What up T-Lo?" The men shook hands and Christy noticed him look over Teddy's shoulder at her. Well, mostly as her ass, which was covered by tight jeans.

Apparently, Torrie noticed too. "John why don't you go and get ready for your match? I have to talk to Teddy," she said tightly.

"Alright babe, just don't bitch at him the way you bitch at me," said John.

Christy giggled as Torrie wheeled around to face her.

"What are you laughing at?" she snapped angrily.

Christy ignored her and reached to give Teddy a big hug. "Thank you so much Mr. Long. I'm sure I'll like most of the people here," she said looking at Torrie pointedly when she said 'most'. She smiled as she stepped through the door John was holding open for her.

"Damn girl, now she's not gonna leave you alone," he said leaning against the wall.

Christy turned around to look at him. "I'm sorry, who are you again?" she asked sweetly.

"How the hell don't you know who I am baby? I'm only the biggest superstar in the WWE today, the doctor of thuganomics," he boasted, drawing himself to his full height and looking down at her as if to intimidate her. Christy looked him squarely in the eye.

"I think your ego may be bigger then you really are," she said shaking her head.  
She had thought that maybe the Smackdown superstars would be less into themselves, but apparently, she was wrong.

"Ya know, you aint really making a good impression," John told her, with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll make a good impression on the people I actually care about," retorted Christy, turning on her heel to try to find the women's locker. She rolled her eyes at his next comment.

"Nice ass!" 

(X X X)

"There you are Super Stacy. Are you ready to face our formidable foe?"

Stacy looked up as she finished lacing up her boot and her face broke into a smile when she realized who was addressing her.

"Of course I am Hurricane! A superhero is ready at all times of the day," she returned playfully. She laughed as Hurricane started to pose for her.

"Always good to hear Super Stacy. I'll see you soon so we can go out there defeat the villainous Randy Orton in our handicap match." The costumed young man made as if he were flying out the door and went to get his tag team partner.

Stacy turned to lace her other boot with a new sense of happiness. Truth be told, she had been skeptical when they had approached her with the idea to team up with the duo. However, after just a few weeks, she had to admit they were her favorite by far. They treated her like she was really part of the team and she never felt like she was being ogled, as she often did whenever she had worked with anybody else. She loved Hurricane's eccentricity and Rosey's contrasting somberness. They could always lift her out of any foul mood she was in with their carefree attitudes and she admired how positive they were even though they were sorely underused on Raw.

Stacy looked at the mirror that was propped up against the wall and gave a curt nod of approval. She walked out the door to meet up with Hurricane and Rosey as they were up in a couple of minutes. She looked up at the clock and decided she had enough time to get something to drink out of the many vending machines along the walls. Stopping at one of them, she fed the machine a dollar and pressed for a bottle of water. She waited and pressed again when nothing came out.

"C'mon," she muttered impatiently. She hit the side of the machine, hoping to get some kink out but the machine offered no sign of giving her what she wanted.

"Stupid piece of shit," Stacy grumbled kicking the machine as hard as she could. She practically punched the button once more, but nothing happened.

"You know abusing a machine is gonna get you nowhere," she heard a voice behind her say.

Turning around, she saw Randy Orton with a cocky smile in his wrestling gear. He swept his eyes over her long legs and Stacy couldn't help but feel a blush creep onto her cheeks.

"You know standing there watching someone is gonna get you labeled a pervert," she shot back. She refused to be made to feel like she was under inspection. Lord knew he had the biggest ego backstage and if he for one second thought she was nervous because of him, his head would only get bigger.

She moved to walk past him but he caught her arm and started to drag her somewhere.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, struggling to break free. She knew that he had zero respect for women and she didn't want to think about what he might have in mind. However, he stopped in front of the machine and gave it a swift kick. Immediately, a bottle of water was deposited below and he grabbed it, handing it to her.

"Don't worry sweetie, I have a match with those super freaks you hang out with and you're really not important enough for me to miss it," he whispered in her ear as he walked past her. "You can thank me later," he said over his shoulder, winking at her.

His sexual meaning was not lost on Stacy and she gripped the water bottle tightly, debating on whether or not to hurl it at the back of his head. She let her arm drop to her side as she settled for glaring at his receding back. She really didn't like him. He had just about fucked every woman in the locker room, and she had been the one who had been there comforting them. For some reason, all the girls went to her with their problems and she felt too bad to ignore them. She had seen what he did to the vivacious Trish and she was astounded that the tough Canadian would ever let anyone do what he had done. She had firmly believed that Trish was completely in control of herself. Stacy had been surprised when one day the buxom blond came to her and shared the news that she was developing a crush on Randy. Stacy had warned her about him but she hadn't listened, and she would have lost her friendship if Trish hadn't decided to play hard to get. He had slept with her after weeks of sweet-talking and after he had gotten what he wanted, he had kicked her out of his hotel room. Stacy had been woken up by the pounding on her door and had found a livid Trish cursing about him. She had soon broken down to tears and Stacy was the one who had to hear about how well Randy had played her.

Glancing up at the clock, she tossed the un-opened bottle in the garbage. She could get her own water later. Right now, she had to go and cheer for her teammates to beat the living hell out of the self-proclaimed Legend Killer.

(x x x)

Stacy flinched as she watched Hurricane go through yet another series of punches. The beginning of the match had gone in their favor, with Hurricane and Rosey taking advantage of the fact that there were two of them and only one of him. Then Randy had suddenly turned the tide and gotten an upper hand. He had hit a hard clothesline and Stacy had seen Hurricane's head snap with the impact. She didn't even want to imagine the kind of pain he was going through as she watched Randy give him a hard kick to the stomach.

Stacy stared at Randy, hate shining in her eyes. She knew that he was doing the smart thing by keeping Hurricane out of Rosey's corner, but that didn't mean she had to agree with it. He could have pinned Hurricane long ago and won the match, but he continued to pummel him. She pounded her hands on the apron and called a few words of encouragement to Hurricane, who seemed beat.

"Let's go Hurricane! You can do it!" she yelled. She could practically feel Rosey's impatience as he reached over the top rope to try to tell Hurricane to hurry up and tag him in. Hurricane seemed to sense the urgency both his partners were sending him because he managed to get up to his feet and snapped his elbow hard into Randy's stomach. As Randy doubled over to try to catch his breath, Hurricane struggled to crawl over to tag Rosey's outstretched hand. Stacy started chanting Hurricane's name and soon the crowd caught on, taking up the chant. Stacy clapped her hands in delight as he finally managed to tap Rosey's hand. The ref made the tag official and Rosey eagerly climbed under the ropes to administer his own clothesline.

"Hurricane are you okay?" asked Stacy, her eyes filling with worry at Hurricane who was laying on the edge of the apron, clutching his stomach in pain. Despite the grimace on his face, he managed to send Stacy a weak smile.

"I'll get better soon," he assured her. He knew that Stacy often worried about him and Rosey almost as if it was her in the ring. Stacy gave him one of her own smiles and she took his hand in her own, clutching it tightly. What she didn't see was the cold blue eyes of a certain young man looking her way. Before she knew what was happening, Rosey was pushed hard into Hurricane and fell onto the floor at Stacy's feet. The ref made the sign that a tag was made and Hurricane was dragged back into the ring at the hands of a ferocious Randy Orton.

"What are you doing?" Stacy screamed at the ref, climbing onto the apron. "He did that on purpose! He's not ready to go in yet! That tag wasn't official!" She tore her angry gaze from the ref as the crowd got louder and watched in horror as Hurricane was hit with a nasty RKO. She watched as the 1-2-3 count was made and Randy's hand was raised in victory. Ignoring her common sense, Stacy climbed into the ring and kneeled by Hurricane, taking his head gently onto her lap.

"Hurricane, can you hear me?" she asked, slapping his face lightly to try to get him to open his eyes. His eyes fluttered open and as he attempted to give her one of his shining smiles again. Suddenly she saw his eyes widen in horror. Before Stacy had a chance to react, she felt her hair being pulled, forcing her to her feet. She grabbed at the hands and turned around furiously. Her expression twisted into anger as blue eyes stared back at her.

Randy had a sick smile on his face as he roughly pushed her to the side, causing her to stumble and fall against the ropes. As she looked on helplessly, Randy stepped over to Hurricane and proceeded to kick him. Hurricane's futile attempts to try to protect himself were easily ignored as he continued to hurt him.

Stacy watched in shock at what was going on. Why did Randy hate them so much? They had never had any conflict backstage that she could remember and her stomach turned as she thought about how much she despised the young man. Throwing caution to the wind, Stacy pushed herself off the ropes and walked towards him. When she was close enough, she shoved him with all her might. Caught by surprise, he stumbled forward, but didn't fall. He quickly turned around, his handsome face contorted in anger. His expression changed as he saw it was Stacy. He couldn't believe she had the guts to do that, even after she had seen what he had done to her friends, just a few minutes before. Randy smiled as he noticed she was growing uneasy by the way he was looking at her.

"You shouldn't have done that sweetheart," he said loud enough so she could hear. He walked purposefully to where she stood. She looked up at him defiantly, but he could see the fear deep in her eyes. Before she had a chance to move, he took a handful of her hair as he had done before and pulled her face to his. He crushed her lips roughly, not caring about her attempts to push him away. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth rudely and as suddenly as the kiss had started, he broke it off. Without warning, he pushed her hard. She fell to the ground as he stood over her, pausing to strike his pose. He laughed as he saw the angry look she was giving him. He ducked between the ropes and started up the ramp, walking backwards so he could see how she would react. To his disgust, he saw her make her way over to Hurricane once again. His smile quickly turned into a frown at the image before him. He had just kissed her, probably something every woman in this arena wanted, and here she was, ignoring him and tending to that green haired freak. Randy turned his back to them. She had horrible taste in men.

(X X X)

"And now ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I present to you your newest Smackdown diva, Christy Hemme!"

Christy walked out as soon as she heard her music to loud cheers. She smiled widely as she waved at the audience and did one of her trademark kicks. She almost laughed with joy at how warm the reception was. She still couldn't get over the fact that these people were actually cheering for her. As soon as she got to the ring, she gave Teddy another big hug as he handed her the microphone. She took it, her hands shaking slightly. Although she had handled a mic on Raw a couple of times before, her natural shyness still hadn't faded.

"Hey guys! I'm so happy to be here on Smackdown. I promise you that I will not disappoint you and I'll-" suddenly music started to play and Christy looked at the general manager. He didn't seem to know what was going on either, Christy gathered as he frowned. She rolled her eyes as she saw Torrie Wilson appear on the ramp, her own microphone in her hand. The crowd was a mixture of cheers and boos. Apparently they wanted to know what was going on and Christy couldn't blame them, as she was also curious to know what had brought her out.

"Well, well, well. Look at what we have here! I guess Raw had too many hos and they decided to give us the biggest one there!" Christy's mouth dropped. Except for the brief encounter in Teddy's office, she had never even talked to Torrie. She couldn't even imagine why she would already have a problem with her. Slowly she thought back to what Stacy had told her the last night she was on Raw. She had warned her that as far as jealousy went, Torrie was by far the most jealous diva on both shows. She hated sharing the spotlight with any of the other women and she was often as fake as they came. Christy took a deep breath as she tried to keep her cool.

"Well, well, well. It looks like someone is jealous," Christy taunted. "By the way Torrie, why are you even here? I'm sure the guys are more then prepped for their matches so your job is done." Christy grinned in triumph as the crowd raised a loud "Ooooooo."

Torrie stamped her foot in anger. "Listen you little whore, I've been here longer then you have, so have some respect!"

"Well my mom always did tell me to respect my elders… And that would definitely apply to you." Christy glanced at Teddy and saw that his shoulders were shaking from trying not to laugh out loud. She really didn't know how she was coming up with all these insults but she was sure having a lot of fun.

"That's it! I want a match against you tonight!" screamed Torrie. Even from in the ring Christy could see her shaking. What is she so mad about? wondered Christy. She was just having fun with her right? None of the grudges portrayed on TV were actually real.

"Now hold on a minute sweetheart," interrupted Teddy. He accepted the mic Christy was handing him and continued. "You are not the one who makes matches around here. We are full tonight but I promise you, next week you will have, Torrie Wilson versus Christy Hemme!" The crowd cheered loudly and Christy clapped her hands along with them. It had taken her a long time to get a real match on Raw and she was happy that she was getting one so soon on Smackdown.

Christy saw Torrie stomp backstage again and looked after her confused. She really seemed mad. This wasn't real was it? After all, mostly everyone got along backstage and the characters they played on TV were just that; characters that weren't real. Christy snapped out of her thoughts as a guy yelled he loved her while she was walking up the ramp. "Love you too!" called Christy waving and blowing him a kiss.

(x x x)

Just as she had finished packing her clothes, her cell phone rang. She let out a groan of annoyance. All she wanted to do was get to the gym and work out to get ready for her match one week from that night. She wasn't about to disappoint Teddy with a half-assed match after he had booked one for her so soon.

"Hello?" she asked a tinge of impatience in her voice.

"Hello Christy," answered a stern voice on the other line.

Her face immediately changed to one of slight fear. It was never a good thing when she called. Christy had tried overtime to build a wall, but somehow she always managed to find a way through it.

"Hey mom," she said meekly. She sat down heavily on the couch and started cracking her knuckles; a nervous habit she had carried from early childhood.

"What can I expect to see this week?"

Christy bit her lip. She really had nothing to be ashamed about. This was what she wanted to do. However, her mother had much different ideas of what her little girl should have been. "Nothing much. The general manager just introduced me and I got interrupted by some other diva. They scheduled a match for me next week," she added brightly.

"Well at least you weren't showing your ass this time," came the short reply. Christy closed her eyes tightly. It amazed her every time how she was able to get to her with such small comments.

"Yea, well I think I have to get to the gym so I can start working out for the match," she said, hoping her mom got the hint.

"What? You don't want to talk to your own mother?"

Christy cleared her throat. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to her mother. But of course she couldn't say that.

"No mom, its not that. But I just have to go and work out, so I'll give a good match next week. I want people to start noticing my ring skills-"

"Instead of noticing you prancing around half naked?" interrupted her mother.

Christy closed her eyes tightly as she pushed the cell phone to her ear hard. She wouldn't let herself cry anymore. Every time she did something that would make her happy, she ruined it. Even when other people were congratulating her, the only thing she could hear was the negative feedback her mother was sure to supply. Christy swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She had to end it now, before she broke down.

"Mom I don't prance around half naked. I'll try to tell them to give me something a little less revealing if you want me to," tried Christy. She frowned to herself. Even after all her mom said to bring her down she was always trying to please her. At times she got mad at herself for that, after all she was doing what she loved, she had no one to please but herself. But her whole demeanor changed as soon as she heard her mother's cold voice. Not the way a mother is supposed to sound at all, thought Christy sadly.

"Well I wish you would just get off that damn show Christy. But I cant seem to get through to you anymore. You know your cousin just got engaged and she has a good job at a dermatologist's office. She says they're going to start training her. I almost wanted to disappear when Patty asked me how you were. The whole family is growing up and doing great things Christy, but you just cant do anything good for yourself." There was a pause on the other end as Mrs. Hemme let her daughter digest all she had said. "Your father and I want to go visit your grandparents and we need money for the trip. I'll be expecting the money in the bank by this weekend. I'll talk to you later, please don't do anything that will make me embarrassed," she added. A click was heard as she hung up without offering a goodbye.

Christy held the phone to her ear after she had hung up. She tried to hold herself together, but hearing the dial tone, she gave up. There was no one in the locker room, no one would see her. Christy flipped her cell phone shut and shoved it deep into her gym bag. As if by burying it she would bury all the hurtful words that came from the other end. She knew it was hopeless. It didn't matter if she cried or held it in, it still hurt.

"I am doing good for myself," she whispered as she wiped her eyes. She started walking to her locker but caught sight in the mirror. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple tank top. She stared at herself, almost imagining what her mother would find wrong with her outfit. Her jeans were too tight and her tank top was too small. Her make-up made her look trashy. Her hair was the wrong color, she had too much jewelry on, her boots were too high.

"Stop!" cried Christy suddenly, hitting the mirror. She gasped as she felt a sharp sting on her knuckle. She had cracked the mirror and now she was bleeding. Christy whimpered as she cradled her injured hand. There was no one to comfort her anymore. She had left everything she knew at home and now she was alone. Looking through the cracked mirror, she stared numbly at her tear-streaked cheeks. Suddenly she felt a deep resentment. She had been having an amazing night, how could 5 minutes change so much? She watched a tear fall silently on her lips. She licked it away tasting the saltiness.

Christy turned away and washed her hand to get rid of the blood. She wouldn't give her mom the money. That would show her mother to stop belittling her. Deep down she knew that she would get the money out to her when her mother said she wanted it. But it felt good if only for a second to pretend she wouldn't give in to her this time. Christy wiped away the tears and forced a smile on her lips. She was fine. She was perfectly fine.

(X X X)

John grunted as he set the weight down heavily. He hung his head low as he rested before he did another rep. Looking up he noticed that more people had left. Now it was only him and two other guys. One of them was struggling to lift what looked to be a 60-pound barbell. The other guy looked to be his much more muscular friend because he was pointing at him and laughing. John snorted as he sized them up. Neither of them were bigger then him and by the way the small guy handled the barbell, he could tell he didn't have much experience. Sighing, he picked up the weight in his other hand. Time for another rep.

The door opened suddenly and he glanced up casually. His eyes lit up in amusement as he saw her walk in. She didn't notice him and set her gym bag on the floor, not bothering to put it in the locker room. He couldn't help but stare as she took her sweater off to reveal a black sports bra. She walked to a calf and squat machine and adjusted the weights. Putting his own weight down, John placed his elbows on his knees and watched her. She really was a graceful. John wondered why he didn't notice it before. Finally realizing he was staring at her, he shook himself and stood up to walk over to her.

"Workin' on that ass huh?"

Christy rolled her eyes as she continued, not bothering to look at the speaker. She already knew who it was by his accent and choice of words. Who else would greet someone like that?

"Hello. Jim isn't it?"

John Cena narrowed his eyes at her. "Man girl, quit playin'. Ya know you been thinking' about me ever since ya met me." He could see the beginning of a smile along her lips but she suppressed it.

"Don't hide the love baby, I know you want me," teased John. He laughed as she rolled her eyes at him.

"You have no idea how hard it is for me to not drag you back to the locker room and have my way with you," she said sarcastically.

"Well damn, baby, you aint gotta drag me nowhere." John smiled as he caught her eye and she burst out laughing, stepping out from under the machine. John watched her as she fanned herself. He stared as a bead of sweat rolled down her chest and disappeared into her cleavage.

"Hey its kinda rude to stare at my boobs," said Christy, waving a hand in front of his face. John snapped out of his trance and shot her a cocky smile.

"Well if they weren't so out there…" he trailed off. "So what are you gonna do now?"

"Why? Are you gonna keep following me around and staring at my breasts?"

John blushed slightly. That was exactly what he wanted to do, but he was planning on being subtle about it. "Naw, I was gonna stare at your ass too," he admitted. He caught her arm as she was about to hit him. "Tsk, tsk, tsk Christy. Your gonna wanna save that energy for the ring next week. Torrie may look like she cant wrestle but she got some skill."

Christy shook his hand off and walked to leg press. She laid down and ignored his stare as she began to push her legs up and down.

"Damn baby you gonna tire yourself out before you even set foot in that ring," commented John, leaning against the machine.

"I think I can handle myself. And besides, no offense but maybe Torrie looks like she cant wrestle because she really cant," said Christy, smiling at him playfully.

John shook his head. He should probably get mad that she had just called his girlfriend weak, but he found it amusing.

"Well if that's what you think. Why dont'cha show me what ya got?" he proposed. He hoped she accepted. If there was an excuse to get his hands all over a girl, John Cena would take it. Especially if it was a hot girl.

Christy raised an eyebrow as she continued to press her legs. After a moment of consideration she locked the machine and stood up to face him.

"Your on."

(X X X)

"Stacy, I swear I'm fine."

Stacy frowned as she hovered over him while the trainer continued to examine him.

"Greg don't put on the superhero act. I saw what that asshole did to you, and I know your not fine," she said, annoyed. She hated it when he tried to pretend like nothing hurt him just so she wouldn't worry. She knew Greg was really into his character, Hurricane, but sometimes she wanted him to drop the act and admit he was hurting.

"But I am a superhero Stacy," replied Greg, flashing her a goofy grin. Stacy laughed, despite herself. She didn't know how he could always cheer her up, even when he was the one that was hurting. Stacy gazed at him as he closed his eyes tightly. The trainer was patting his cut with something and apparently it didn't feel so good. On instinct, Stacy grasped his hand and squeezed. He opened his eyes and squeezed back.

"I'm fine girl, get out of here. You look like you need some rest. Can you just tell Rosey to meet me here so he can give me a ride to the hotel?" Greg winced again as the trainer moved on to the other side of his face.

"Sure. I'll tell him to take good care of you," replied Stacy.

"Please don't. I don't think Rosey would make a very good nurse. He always makes me play video games and then he sits on me when I beat him," joked Greg.

Stacy laughed. "Right, like your any good at video games," she teased. She ducked out of the room before he had a chance to say anything. She knocked on the men's locker room and waited for someone to answer.

"Hey Stace," greeted Rob. He looked at her costume, which she hadn't had a chance to change out of. "Lookin' good," he commented.

Stacy chuckled and hit him on the arm with her mask. "Hey Rob, how's the knee?"

"Aw you know. Its healing all right. So did you come here for something or were you just hoping to catch a glimpse of RVD?"

"You got me, Rob. All I wanted was to stand here looking at you," said Stacy playfully. She rolled her eyes as Rob nodded his head with a cheesy smile on his face.

"I was looking for Rosey actually. Is he in there?" asked Stacy.

"Yea, I'll go get him," Rob said, turning and yelling for Rosey to get his ass out here.

"How's Greg?" asked Rosey as soon as he saw Stacy.

"He's okay," she answered. "Trying to act tough as always. But he wanted me to tell you to meet him in the trainer's office so you could take him to the hotel."

"Yea sure. I'll see you later then," said Rosey.

"All right. Take good care of him; no sitting on him when he beats you in a game," warned Stacy, mockingly shaking her finger at him.

Rosey shook his head. "Is that what he told you? He hasn't beaten me in a long time. Don't worry I'll go easy on him" he assured with a mischievous grin on his face as he walked off.

Stacy sighed as she made her way to the women's locker room. As she was nearing the door she heard what sounded like a giggle coming from one of the hallways behind the locker room. Letting curiosity get the best of her, she peeked around the corner.

The sight before her turned her stomach. There was Randy Orton, now out of his wrestling gear and in one of his usual suits, pressed up against Candice Mitchell in a very short dress. He had her sitting on top of an equipment crate while he was between her legs, his hand on her thigh. As Stacy watched, she saw him go in for a kiss, just as he had done to her, all down to the hair grab. Is that the only way he knows how to kiss? thought Stacy annoyed. She turned and walked into the locker room. She didn't know why the scene had bothered her so much.

"What a whore," mumbled Stacy as she changed out of her costume into a more comfortable pair of jeans and baby tee. She wasn't sure if she was referring to Randy or Candice. Both, thought Stacy. Candice acted like a dog in heat at every show and Randy had just kissed her a few minutes ago, and now he was swapping spit with someone else.

Stacy brushed her hair quickly and pulled it into a messy bun. She would take a long shower and go right to sleep, she decided. After grabbing her things she walked out of the locker room and started to dial Trish's cell. They were staying at the same hotel and she wanted to see if she was going to join her on her shopping trip tomorrow. Not looking where she was going, she rounded a corner and bumped into someone hard.

"Ow," groaned Stacy as she fell on her bottom for the second time that day.

"Looks like you like it rough," said a voice above her.

Stacy looked up and scowled. Of all people to run into, she had to run into him.

"You should look where your going," said Randy, reaching down to help her up. Stacy pushed his hand away hard and got up by herself. She didn't need anyone's help, especially his. He put his hands up in mock defeat and smirked at her.

"Guess I already got you all riled up," he observed.

Stacy glared at him. He was right; he did get her riled up. But not in the way he meant it.

"Just go make out with some ring rat," she snapped, trying to walk around him. He stepped in front of her and blocked her way.

"Jealous?" he asked, taunting her.

Stacy scoffed. "Please Randy. If I were to get jealous over every girl you fucked I would be jealous at half the women in the world."

Randy raised an eyebrow at her tone. He wasn't sure he liked the way she was speaking to him.

"Maybe you should take that attitude down a notch," he advised, taking a step towards her. She stepped back and looked at him angrily.

"Get away from me you jackass. The only reason your even here is because daddy has connections." Stacy almost bit her tongue as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She probably shouldn't have said that. She knew it was a sensitive subject with him and just a few moments ago, he had pushed her around in the ring. What would stop him from doing something worse now that she was alone with him in the hallway?

Randy looked at her calmly. Inside his blood was boiling in anger, but he wouldn't let her see she got to him. Showing emotions was a sign of weakness to him. Instead, he grabbed her hips and pushed her hard into the wall. Stacy let out a cry of surprise. She tried shoving him back but he ignored her attempts.

"Get off me! If you want some action go get one of your little sluts!" said Stacy loudly. She slapped him as hard as she was able to with the limited space. Randy pressed her harder against the wall and Stacy gasped at the slight pain.

"I think your just trying to hide the fact that you want me to fuck you. All this talk about my little sluts? I bet you want to be one of them," he hissed in her ear.

Stacy's mouth dropped open. That cocky bastard!

Before she had a chance to come up with a retort, Randy pressed his lips against her, just as roughly as before. This time however, he used his hands to grip her ass tightly to push her into his crotch. Stacy was surprised to find that he was already growing hard. She would have thought that with all the women he had been with he would need more stimulation to get aroused.

As much as she hated to admit it, Stacy was greatly enjoying every second. She ignored her best judgment and wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him closer. She could feel Randy smirk against her lips as he felt her give in to him. He began to run his hands over her ass and he heard her moan softly.

Stacy found that all the blood seemed to rush to her lower regions and she was surprised at how strong her desire for him was. She bit her lip as she imagined how good it would feel to have him inside of her. She could already tell that he was a pretty good size. Just as she thought this, she felt Randy slip a hand in between them and begin to unbuckle his belt. His hand brushed against her sensitive spot and she gasped at how good such a small movement felt. Suddenly she heard him pull his zipper down and she snapped out of it.

She pushed him off of her suddenly and looked at him. He was breathing heavily, as was she. His eyes held a strong lust deep in them and Stacy almost wrapped her hands around his neck again, but an image of Candice flashed through her mind.

"Your quite the cock tease," Randy murmured, staring at her heaving chest.

Stacy glared at him. She wanted to finish what they started but she would never say that aloud. He could just go on thinking whatever he wanted about her. If she fucked him then, what would she be? Just another unsuspecting idiot that fell into his trap. She didn't want to end up like Trish and have him promise her things just to get inside her pants.

"Maybe your just not all that sexy," replied Stacy, shrugging. She might as well take a blow to his ego. It wasn't like he cared about others feelings, why should she care about his?

Randy narrowed his eyes as he took a step towards her. Stacy held up her hands to stop him and side stepped him. She looked over her shoulder to see him looking after her.

"Maybe you could get Candice to try and finish you up," she called, not bothering to turn back. She walked out the double doors into the crisp night, breathing a sigh of relief. She didn't want to know how far he would let her go before he lost his temper.

Randy stared at the double doors, trying to calm his breathing down. "I'll get you to finish what you started," he promised to himself under his breath, a malicious smile creeping onto his face.

Please review and tell me what your thoughts are. I don't wanna waste time on something that has no future. Thanx 4 takin the time 2 read:) 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE. 

John cracked his neck to loosen up, continuing to stare down his opponent. He narrowed his eyes as the person across from him did the same thing, mocking him.

"Your gonna get it now," he warned, lowly. John crouched low and waited for an opening. He saw one soon and went for it, throwing his opponent over his shoulder.

"Hey! Put me down!" exclaimed Christy Hemme. She pounded her fists on his back in an attempt to break free, but he easily ignored her.

"Aww what's the matter baby girl? I thought you were gonna show me what you got, but so far I aint seen nothing." John smirked as he felt Christy struggle harder. He wasn't letting her get off that easy. Not only was he enjoying teasing her like this, but she felt good in his arms. Although John had a girlfriend, she was the furthest thing from his mind at that particular moment.

"I'll show you what I got as soon as you put me down!" retorted Christy. "Thank you," she huffed when he finally put her down. Before she had a chance to make a move, she found herself in John's arms again. This time with her back against his chest and her arms twisted across her chest so she couldn't move.

"You're not playing fair!" Christy protested.

John laughed as he pulled her arms tighter. "When did I say I was gonna play with you? You said you wanted to wrestle and that's what we're doin." John lowered his head, his lips against her ear. "And I think I like wrestlin' with you."

Christy held back a shiver as she felt his hot breath in her ear. She hadn't been this close to a man in a while and she couldn't help the way her body reacted to him.

"Well you have to give me a chance," she insisted, trying to keep her breathing under control. She didn't want to give John the wrong idea. After all, she had promised herself when she found out she was being sent to Smackdown that she was going to work hard to be seen as more then a piece of ass.

John let out an exaggerated groan as he let her arms go reluctantly. He really did enjoy how soft her skin was. Christy turned around and smiled brightly at him. He was just about to reprimand her for wasting time when all of a sudden he felt a sharp pain on his thigh.

"Ah! What the fuck girl? I wasn't even payin' attention!" John Cena glared at the laughing redhead. She seemed proud that she had just managed to catch him off guard. Not for long.

Before Christy had a chance to gloat over her well placed kick, John ran towards her and tackled her to the ground. Christy gasped in surprise as she felt herself being pushed to the floor.

"Ya know if you wanna play dirty, you could've just told me," said John, his face hanging a few inches above her. Christy looked up at him, not daring to make a move. John had taken her down and he had gone down with her. He was lying on top of her, his knee in between her thighs. Christy was distinctly aware of a strange feeling. It wasn't bad…just strange. Almost as if someone had placed an assortment of butterflies in her stomach and they were flapping their wings madly.

"Hey, I didn't hurt you did I?" John's worried voice broke into her thoughts and Christy forced a carefree smile on her lips. She wasn't about to tell him that he was making her feel this way; he might think she was crazy.

"No, I'm okay, but if you don't get off me then I might suffocate," she replied attempting to push him off. John chuckled and rolled off her and onto his back, putting his arms behind his head. Christy shook her head as she stood up. "Are you gonna stay there all night?"

"Yea I think I'm stayin' here the whole night. It _is_ a 24 hour gym," he replied, closing his eyes.

"Wont Torrie get lonely at the hotel all by herself?" she asked, cocking her head to one side playfully.

"She can deal with it," shrugged John carelessly.

Christy raised an eyebrow and decided to tease him. "Yea, your right. I mean if you don't show up, she'll probably find some other guy to keep her warm at night."

She giggled as John's eyes shot open and he looked up at her, feigning anger.

"Yo man, are you calling my girlfriend a slut?" he demanded. Christy nodded her head in agreement. "Well she's not; trust me on this one girl. She aint been givin' me no ass lately."

"Well, I actually _have_ someone waiting for me at my room. So I'm gonna head out," said Christy, turning away. She smirked inwardly as she heard John stand up quickly and fall into step with her.

"Who is it?" he asked. There was a small hint of jealousy in his voice, but Christy was too busy gathering her things to notice.

"Who's who?" she asked calmly.

"Who's tappin' that ass?" asked John. He brushed his hand against her ass lightly as if she didn't know what he was referring to.

Christy jumped slightly, surprised by his boldness. From the short time she had known him, she had figured that he wasn't a shy man but she didn't think he would be so forward. After all, they had just met that afternoon!

"Hey! My goodies aren't for you. They're for the lucky guy that's waiting at the hotel," said Christy slapping away his wandering hand. John followed her through the door into the brisk night. It had suddenly gotten much colder.

"Do you really have a man?" asked John seriously. Christy opened the door to her rented car and looked back at him.

"No John. There is no one waiting for me at my hotel room. I'm not the whore everyone thinks I am," she replied, a trace of anger in her voice. She knew that she wasn't going to be portrayed in the best light when she had agreed to become a WWE diva. Still, she couldn't help getting mad when guys automatically thought she was a slut in real life because of whom she portrayed on TV.

John seemed to sense the anger in her voice because he backed away. "Yea, don't trip girl. I wasn't calling you a whore or nothing. Listen, you go back to your lonely hotel room and do what you gotta do. I'll see you around," John said turning away and going back into the gym to finish his workout.

Christy stared after him, feeling sad. Why? she wondered confused. She had never longed for a guy to go home to since she had started working with the company, but John's words had suddenly caused her to feel empty. He seemed to have awoken some sort of longing deep inside of her. Christy found herself speculating about how different her life would be if she _did_ have a man. Someone who would accept what she was doing and love her for her, not the persona she emitted from television sets.

Christy sighed as she tossed her gym bag into the passenger seat. There was no use thinking about anything now. She might as well go back to her empty hotel room and "do what she needed to do" as John had suggested.

(X X X)

"We love the divas!"

Stacy Keibler smiled as she glanced over at her current shopping partner.

Trish Stratus met her gaze and they burst out into a fit of giggles. It wasn't that they weren't used to having people, especially men, recognize them, but it always cracked them up as to what means their fans would go to just to get their attention.

"He loves ya Trish," teased Stacy.

The small Canadian rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in mock surprise. "What did you expect Stacy? I mean, I _am_ Trish Stratus."

"Oh get off your high horse woman," said Stacy, smacking Trish playfully with one of her many shopping bags. Trish dodged it and laughed as she tried to hit Stacy with one of her own bags.

"You're such a bad influence on me Stace," she commented. Stacy raised her eyebrow in amusement.

"Oh really? And why is that?"

"You always make me act like a little kid. How does it look when a 6 time Woman's Champ is seen looking like she's in kindergarten?" Trish put an arm out to stop Stacy. "Oh! Look at those pretty shoes! I want em, I want em!" she exclaimed, dragging the leggy blond inside the store.

"Oh right, I make you look like a little kid. I think you do a pretty good job of that yourself," said Stacy, shaking her head. But Trish was too busy trying on the shoes to pay her any attention.

"Look at how cute they are!" squealed Trish. She caught the attention of one of the employees and asked for a pair in her size. The two divas sat down on one of the benches to wait. They had been shopping for nearly 3 hours and taking a souvenir from all their stops had slowly begun to weigh them down.

"You know, we should get some guy to carry our bags," complained Trish, dropping her bags to the floor.

"We should get Dave to do it," agreed Stacy, referring to one of the biggest superstar they knew. She noticed a smile and a faint hint of pink on Trish's face. "Ooo, does somebody have a crush on the big bad animal?" teased Stacy.

"No!" denied Trish, looking away. Stacy smiled. She had known Trish longer then any of the other divas and she was the closest to her. Overtime, she had learned to read Trish like a book because she had never been able to hide her emotions well.

"Its okay to like someone," said Stacy softly. She knew how much Randy had affected Trish and how weary she was of trusting any other men. Stacy had tried to convince her that there were many different types of guy out there, but her stubborn friend had refused to listen to her and had come to the conclusion that all guys were jerks.

"I know its okay, Stace; but I don't want to. I don't want to risk getting hurt again. It hurt like a bitch last time, and I'm in no hurry to go through that again." Trish took the shoes an employee was handing her and walked up to the register to pay for them while Stacy began to gather all their bags.

They walked in silence for a while until Trish suggested they go get something to eat. After getting their food, the two women sat down at a small table, away from all the other shoppers to try to get some measure of privacy.

"You know, not all guys are like Randy," tried Stacy timidly. She didn't want to bring up that subject again but she felt like Trish was trapped. On one hand, she had practically sworn off men. But on the other hand, she was starting to develop feelings for someone else.

"I guess there are some nice guys out there," agreed Trish, hesitantly. "But how do I know Dave is one of them?"

Stacy shrugged. "You don't. But you'll never know unless you try."

Trish nodded, taking a bite out of her sandwich. She really did like Dave. The few times she had talked to him, he had seemed very genuine. He made her laugh and never once treated her as if she was inferior.

"And you know, maybe what happened with Randy was a good thing," she heard Stacy say. Trish looked at her like she had grown an extra head. After all Stacy had seen go through because of him and she was telling her it was a _good_ thing?

"Oh don't look at me like that Trish. I mean, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing because now you know what to watch out for." Trish sighed deeply. Maybe Stacy was right. She was much more careful of who she talked to now.

"I guess your right," said Trish quietly.

"So how did Randy act when he was trying to get with you?" asked Stacy. Trish looked up in surprise. Stacy had never expressed an interest in the details of her brief relationship with Randy.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked suspiciously.

Stacy waved her hand as if to dismiss her suspicions. "I was just curious. You never really told me. All you kept saying was how well he played you and how much you wanted to-"

"Castrate him?" finished Trish, remembering vividly how hurt and angry she was after he had kicked her out.

"Yea…" Stacy trailed off, seeing the look on her friends face. She knew she shouldn't have brought it up. Trish deserved to be able to get over it, and her bringing it up again was like opening up old wounds.

"He was really smart at how he went about doing things," said Trish suddenly. Stacy nodded for her to continue. "I mean, you know when something is out of reach you want it more? Well I guess he knew that too. He would talk to me and then make me go after him. And me, like an idiot, would do it. It's just…we had such good conversations. Then I would call him and he would act so slick. Dropping all his lines on me. I can't believe I fell for them. I really thought they were just for me." Trish sighed as she recounted the past. "I look back at it now and I want to slap myself."

Stacy smiled at the distraught woman in front of her.

"Don't worry sweetie. It's all behind you now. And you're a stronger woman now." Trish smiled at her friends attempts to make her feel better.

"Thanks Stace."

"No problem. I'm sorry I even brought it up. But we have more important things to attend to now," said Stacy smiling wickedly as Trish raised an eyebrow in question. "We need to figure out a way to hook you up with Dave Batista."

(X X X)

"Why did you get back so late yesterday?"

John resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his girlfriend's question.

"Tor, I already told you. I was workin' out at the gym and I guess I lost track of time."

Torrie Wilson narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She didn't believe him for one minute. It sounded like something she would use.

"Are you sure?" she asked again.

"Babe I'm sure I was at the gym. I don't know how many times I gotta tell ya girl." John Cena squeezed his eyes shut to try to get rid of what seemed like the beginning of a headache. A_ll thanks to Torrie's non-stop interrogation_, he thought annoyed. His eyes snapped open as he felt a weight settle down on the bed beside him. He glanced over at Torrie who was smiling innocently. She brushed her hands against his abs.

"I just get so worried when you're not with me," she murmured, looking up at John. He seemed to be buying it. Torrie almost laughed in his face. She couldn't believe how naïve the young superstar was. A little bit of sexual innuendo and he was putty in her hands.

"Why are you so worried? I'm a big boy now. I can take care of myself." John closed his eyes again as he felt Torrie pull his shirt up and continue to caress his bare skin.

"I know _that_ John. But when you're not with me, I always think there's some girl trying to hook up with you. And… I don't like that feeling." She continued her feather like touch as she scooted closer to him.

"I get worried when you aint with me too," said John. He wasn't sure why all of a sudden Torrie wanted to tease him like this. He was always the aggressor as long as they had been going out. Not that he was complaining of course, but it seemed out of character for her.

"Well you don't have to worry about that baby," murmured Torrie. She sat up suddenly and swung her leg over him so she was straddling him.

John Cena gripped her waist tightly. He was in no mood to wait for foreplay. She had been acting like a prude the last couple of days and now that she had started it, he wasn't letting her go anywhere until she finished it.

"Ya know I aint been seeing no action for a couple of days," John said. His hands went to the front of her shirt and he started unbuttoning it.

"Be careful or your gonna rip it," whined Torrie.

John Cena gritted his teeth in annoyance. Somehow, even though Torrie was a beautiful woman, she always managed to kill the mood in one way or another. He could still remember that time that they were going at it and she had almost slapped him for pulling her hair because she didn't want to mess it up.

"I think I'm gonna go down and get something to eat," announced John suddenly. Torrie's mouth dropped in shock. This was definitely a first. John Cena refusing sex?

"Are you cheating on me?" asked Torrie angrily. John looked back at her as he pulled on his shoes.

"What makes you say that?"

"You just turned down sex, what do you think? If you're not in the mood now it must be because you got some somewhere else." Torrie clenched her fists in anger as she thought of who it might be. All the girls that even looked John's way were sluts to her; so in that case there were many suspects.

"I aint cheatin' on you baby girl. But I am hungry and I don't wanna rip your shirt," replied John. He let the door slam behind him as he made his way out of the room.

Torrie punched the pillow in frustration. This was not good. If she couldn't control him with the temptation of sex, then her plan wouldn't work. She glared as she saw one of John's many hats sitting on the nightstand, almost as if mocking her. She swung her hand and sent the hat flying across the room. It wasn't fair. She had been there longer then John and he was getting so much more attention. He had been pushed so fast and Torrie was almost never used on camera anymore. The main reason she had been going out with him was so she could have something over all the other divas. After all, no one else was dating someone who was the main event almost every night were they? In fact, if she hadn't made a match for herself against that whore Christy Hemme, then she was pretty sure she wasn't even going to be on the show next week.

Torrie fell on her back. She didn't want to go anywhere right now. She groaned as she remembered that she and John were supposed to go to dinner later that night. Oh well, she would get out of it somehow. She would tell him that she needed to go work out and instead sneak away to some nightclub. She smiled to herself. John had no idea what she _really_ did half the time.

(X X X)

Randy Orton panted as he rolled onto his back. Closing his eyes, he relaxed against the sheets for a few seconds to cool off. He opened his eyes as soon as he felt her presence on the bed beside him; _still_.

"You can go now," he said, breaking the silence. He turned away from her and could almost feel her eyes on his back, staring at him in shock.

"I thought you said I could spend the day here with you and then we would go out to eat later," the brunette said softly.

Randy turned to her, a distant expression on his features. He didn't know how many times he had used that line on women before. It was amazing he still found someone who fell for it. Like this bitch. He couldn't even remember her name and she expected him to waste more of his time on her?

"I lied," he said shortly. There was no point in dressing it up. He had promised her something to get what he wanted. He had done it many times before. He wasn't even planning to hook up with anyone until later that night. But when he had seen her while eating a late breakfast, he couldn't help but try to get with her.

"You son of a bitch!" exclaimed the woman angrily. She stood up and began to gather her clothes off the floor.

Randy watched her in mild amusement. She looked like she had just heard the hotel was on fire. As soon as she had put her clothes back on, she turned to him.

"I don't see how you expect to ever have a serious relationship if you keep acting like a jackass," she spat out, walking out of the room. A feisty one, thought Randy smiling. Her words had no effect on him, however. He had heard the same words many different ways from many different women.

"And I'll probably hear the same ones later tonight," he murmured to himself, drifting off into a deep slumber.

(X X X)

"I'm not doing it."

Stacy Keibler shook her head firmly. There was no way she was doing it. She didn't care if she looked like a chicken. There was not a chance in hell he would get her to do it.

Gregory Helms looked at Stacy, a twinkle in his eye. He would get her to do it. He knew he would.

"C'mon Stacy. I bet you you'll have fun."

Stacy crossed her arms across her chest and glared at her friend. He was crazy if he thought she was going anywhere near that thing.

"Greg! You know I'm afraid of heights and yet you brought me here. You told me we would just be going out to eat or something. If I had known we were going to do _this_, I would have hung up on you!"

Greg smiled at her. "That's why I didn't tell you. And besides I said we could go to dinner and do something else. Well, this is that something else," he pointed out. She could never say he hadn't told her. He just hadn't told her in detail, he reasoned.

"Excuse me, we need to know who's going up," interrupted the instructor who had been quiet during their whole argument.

"We're both going up," replied Greg, trying to lead Stacy onto the platform. Stacy steeled herself against his pushes.

"Greg! I'm not doing it! Why the hell would I even _think_ about bungee jumping when I'm so scared of heights?" she exclaimed.

"Because this way you could get over your fears," said Greg, almost sounding wise.

"Well I don't want to get over them," grumbled Stacy. She knew he was right, but that didn't mean she would do it. She looked up at the crane that was suspended 170-feet above them. Slowly, her gaze landed on Greg. He was looking at her expectantly. Stacy shook her head again sighing.

"Just because I go up there doesn't mean I'm going to jump," said Stacy stubbornly.

Greg's face broke into a smile. He knew he could get her to do it.

"So both of you are going up?" asked the instructor.

"Yea," answered Greg quickly, afraid that Stacy might change her mind.

"Alright, well we're going to have to ask you some questions and weigh you in order to keep you safe," continued the trainer. He took out a pen and began to ask them questions. "Do either of you have high blood pressure? Diabetes? Asthma?" he continued until they had gone through everything. They weighed themselves in and got the standard safety briefing.

"Alright, we're ready to go up," announced the instructor. He led them to the crane and opened the small gate.

Stacy held back. "I can't do this," she whispered looking at Greg with pleading eyes. She was scared to death of the thought of letting herself drop from such high heights, to be held only by a piece of elastic.

Greg smiled tenderly. He knew her fear of heights. That was the main reason he had asked her to do this with him.

"Stacy, nothing is going to happen to you," he said gently taking her hands and leading her onto the crane.

Stacy followed numbly. Just because she got up there didn't mean she had to do it right? She stared as she looked down to see the instructor putting on her ankle straps. Greg already had his on and he was looking up to the top with an eager expression.

Stacy gripped the railing hard as she felt the crane being lifted into the air. She looked down as the ground fell away from her. She closed her eyes and started breathing heavily. What the hell was she thinking? There was no way she was doing it.

"Greg I really can't do this," she uttered quietly.

"You_can_ do this Stacy. I wouldn't have brought you here if I didn't think you couldn't," he told her. He placed his hand over hers and placed his other arm around her shoulders.

Stacy relaxed into him. She felt much safer when she was in his arms. But she wouldn't when she was falling through the air.

The crane stopped with a jerk and Greg shook her softly to get her to open her eyes.

"Who wants to go first?"

Stacy forced herself to swallow. Her throat was suddenly as dry as sandpaper and she felt slightly dizzy. It would be worse if she watched Greg go first. It would only give her time to worry and grow even more nervous.

"I will," she said almost inaudibly.

"Alright then, just step on up and hold onto the sides. Don't worry about it, bungee jumping is safer then riding a bicycle," assured the instructor.

Stacy would have burst out laughing if she wasn't scared she would throw up instead. She would give anything to be riding a bike right now. She peered down over the edge and felt her stomach plummet.

"Don't look down," whispered Greg into her ear. He stood behind her and gave her a hug. Stacy wanted to collapse into his arms; her knees were shaking so hard.

"Okay," sighed Stacy. She felt him let go and she looked up. She wouldn't look down.

"Are you ready?" Stacy slowly nodded her head. It was now or never.

"3-2-1..."

(x x x)

"Oh my God that was so amazing!"

Greg rolled his eyes, laughing. First she wouldn't shut up about how much she hated bungee jumping and now he couldn't get her to stop talking about how great it was.

"I mean, it was just such a great feeling! I felt like I weighed nothing! I felt like I was flying! I can do anything I want now!" continued Stacy. She was smiling from ear to ear. She had just done something that she thought she would never do. She had just overcome her biggest fear. She felt more energy then she had ever felt in her life.

"I know, I was there with you," reminded Greg. He rolled his window down to feel the air against his face. Stacy had insisted that they go out to a club and Greg had agreed with her. She needed to do something to calm down because she still had so much adrenaline from the jump. He stole a quick look as Stacy looked out the window. She looked beautiful as always. Her short black skirt showed off her legs and the small top embraced her subtle curves to perfection. Greg sighed as he forced his eyes back on the road. She didn't even notice.

"There it is!" cried Stacy excitedly. She bounced out of the car and shifted her weight from foot to foot impatiently. She wanted to _dance_. She had way too much energy and she needed to burn some of it off. Stacy took a deep breath. She felt like she was invincible. Like she was on top of the world. She could do anything now, after jumping from 170-feet, she wanted to do it all.

"Alright, alright, we're here," said Greg. He laughed as Stacy let out a squeal of delight as the loud music hit them. She took his hand and led him to the bar, demanding shots for the both of them.

"A toast to us," she said, handing him his drink. Greg watched her as she polished it off and ordered another one.

"Hey, you might want to take it easy," he warned. Stacy ignored him as she swallowed another.

"Fine then, lets go dance!" she exclaimed taking his hand again and pulling him onto the dance floor. Greg placed his hands on her waist as she danced to the music. He had always known she was a good dancer. But he didn't want to dance with her for long. He had very little control of his body when he was this close to her and he was already breathing heavily from the way she was pressing against him.

It would have been fine if he was going out with her, but he wasn't. They were friend and nothing more. Stacy had never hinted that she liked him as anything more then that. Although he longed for her to drop him any kind of sign that she wanted to be more then friends, she never had. And he wouldn't dream of jeopardizing their friendship by admitting his feelings for her. As long as he could be close to her, he was content.

(X X X)

"Looks like this is the hot spot."

Randy nodded as he surveyed his surroundings. The club did like look it was a good one. The music was blaring and he could already see a lot of girls looking over in his direction.

"I guess you know how to pick em," he said to the large man standing beside him.

Hunter nodded, his eyes searching over the scene. He always seemed to know where the good clubs were, in every town they hit. This was no exception. He smiled as he caught sight of a blond woman with very large breasts. That was his conquest for the night.

"Well see you later kid. I'm gonna try and get that one over by the bar." He adjusted his shirt and sauntered over to the bar leaving the young superstar to stand alone.

Randy smirked as he saw a group of girls look over in his direction and talk amongst themselves. Too bad none of them were very pretty. He made his way over to one of the vacant stools near the bar. He would get a couple of drinks first and then after careful consideration he would make his move. Randy Orton was never one to rush these things. The girls he took home were always the finest. He would check them out for their looks of course. But then he would take a note of how they moved; after all, if they couldn't move well on the dance floor then they wouldn't be able to move well in the bedroom would they?

His eyes settled on a couple dancing near him. Well, more like laughing. The woman was hot, he concluded as he ran his eyes over her. Her legs were very long and Randy smirked as he thought of how good they would feel wrapped around him. She had her back to him so he couldn't see if her face was as nice as her legs. Randy had no qualms about thinking about a girl who was with someone else. It wasn't like he hadn't fucked someone who already had a boyfriend. As he continued to watch her, his eyes flitted up to look at the guys face. He was laughing and it looked like he was teasing his girl. As Randy looked at him, he found the face to be familiar. At that moment the girl turned around and Randy was surprised to see a very familiar diva.

And that was that stupid freak she hung out with, Randy remembered. His eyes wandered up to Stacy's face and he saw a happy expression light up her features. Very different from the way she looked when she was around him. The only expression she ever had on her face when she was around him was one of anger. And lust, thought Randy cockily, remembering their little encounter after the show.

As he watched, he saw Stacy hug Greg and he led her to the bar. They sat a couple of seats from Randy, but they didn't seem to notice him.

"Go for it! She's been eyeing you all night!" he heard Stacy say.

Randy took a sip of his beer slowly, watching as Greg went up to a woman at the end of the bar and invite her to dance. She accepted and he led her back to the dance floor, sending Stacy a thumbs up sign.

Randy snorted as he checked out the woman Greg had chosen. She was ok looking, but nothing really special. Randy snapped out of his thoughts as he saw Stacy beckoning for the bartender. He finished the last of his drink and got up out of his stool.

"I'll take another shot," said Stacy, not noticing the large figure that was now leaning against the bar beside her.

"Planning on getting drunk tonight?"

Stacy turned to face the speaker. Randy Orton flashed her a smile as he ordered a shot for himself.

"You know, stalking is illegal in all fifty states Randy." Stacy smiled as she watched him throw his shot back like an expert.

"Sweetie, I wouldn't waste my time following you around. The only reason you have the pleasure of talking to me is because I still haven't spotted someone to take back to the hotel," retorted Randy cooly.

"Aw, so does that mean you don't wanna waste your time dancing with me?" asked Stacy with a pout on her lips. She didn't know what had brought around her sudden change of feelings for him. The last time she had seen him the only thing she wanted to do was slap that stupid smirk off his face. Now he stood next to her wearing that same smirk the only thing she wanted to do was ram him up against a wall like he had done to her. Sure, she could blame the alcohol, but deep down she knew that she wanted to repeat the incident that had happened that night after the show.

Randy raised an eyebrow as he looked at the slightly buzzed diva. Of course he wanted to dance with her. He wanted to do _a lot _more then dance with her.

"Let's go then," he said offering her his hand.

"Actually I just wanted to know if you would say yes. You don't think I would actually want to dance with you do you?" Stacy turned away haughtily. She couldn't resist. He had made so many others feel like shit, why shouldn't he get back what he dished out?

The young superstar smirked at her attempt to make him feel bad. It was funny how she thought she could hurt his feelings. He had heard worse things from many different woman. He took a seat next to her and ran his finger down her exposed back. She turned around quickly and gave him a dirty look.

"What do you think your doing?" she demanded.

Randy ignored her question as he pulled her stool closer to his. She opened her mouth to protest but Randy shot her a warning with his cold blue eyes. She settled for pushing his hands away as he rested them on her leg. Randy looked into her brown eyes, trying to read her thoughts. He could see clearly that she wanted him even if she wasn't aware of it yet. Overtime, Randy had learned to sense when a woman was aroused, and the way Stacy was reacting to his touches, he knew she was getting excited.

"Stop," whispered Stacy fiercely as he made his way toward her inner thigh. Randy chuckled as he leaned over to her.

Stacy's eyes widened as she felt Randy's tongue on her ear. She gripped the edges of the bar stool so as not to fall off. Closing her eyes, she felt a him slide his hand further up her thigh. She was afraid to let him feel how wet he had made her. If he knew he would think he had won. And that cocky bastard didn't need to feel like he had conquered anyone else.

Randy pulled his hand back suddenly and stared as Stacy attempted to retain her composure. She looked flushed and he could already see a thin sheen of sweat forming over her body, creating a glow. He licked his lips as he ran his eyes over her. He had no desire to continue his attack here where he only had a limited amount of space. If he was going to make her want him he was going to do it on his own terms. Before she had a chance to protest, he grabbed her arm and pulled her off the stool.

Stacy struggled to free her wrist from Randy grip but it was no use. He only tightened his hold on her almost painfully. Stacy looked around for Greg but he was nowhere to be seen. She regretted talking to Randy in the first place, but on the other hand she was curious to find out what he would do to her.

Soon after thinking this, Randy dragged her in front of him, backing her into a wall once again. Stacy glanced at her surroundings. He had led her in a deserted area of the club.

"What the hell are you doing?" hissed Stacy as he walked closer to her.

"Like you don't know," replied Randy lowly. Stacy almost moaned at the sound of his voice. She had always thought he was one of the hottest wrestlers backstage. She was ashamed to recall that she had been jealous when Trish would tell her about her dates with him. Even now, after she knew what he had done to Trish, and what he was doing to all the other girls in the locker room, she still felt a strong desire for him.

Stacy was torn away from her thoughts as she felt something warm slowly hike up her skirt. Stacy repressed a moan. She wanted nothing more then to feel his hands all over her body, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that kept her from fully enjoying the moment.

"You know you're about the only girl backstage I haven't gotten a taste of," murmured Randy. His tongue flicked over her collarbone and Stacy bit her lip. How could he be thinking about that while he was doing this to her?

"Who says I'm going to let you get with me?" she asked breathlessly. She gasped as she felt his hand brush against the lace of her panties.

"Looks to me like you want me whether you want to admit it or not." Stacy dug her nails into his back. It was true that she wanted him, but he didn't have to rub it in her face. Stacy glared up at him as she brought her hand between them. She grabbed his manhood and grinned seductively as he looked at her in surprise. He wasn't the only who knew how to play games.

"Looks to me like you want it just as much," said Stacy running her hand up and down his shaft. She could feel him growing in her hand. The feeling was incredible. She knew she was a beautiful woman, she was told that everyday. But she had almost forgotten how powerful it made her feel to be able to get such a _rise_ out of a man. Especially a man such as Randy Orton.

"Funny, I never thought you would turn out to be so kinky." Before Stacy had a chance to respond, Randy pushed her thin panties to the side and began to touch her.

Stacy moaned in pleasure. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing to her. His fingers worked skillfully, rubbing against her in all the right places at just the right speed. She could feel herself beginning to lose control as he finally slid a finger in. "Randy," Stacy moaned. She blushed as soon as she heard herself say his name. How could she be so weak? She knew how arrogant he was. To be able to say that she had called out his name would only make him more intolerable.  
At that moment, though, none of these thoughts seemed to be registering in her mind. All she wanted was to be granted release, and Randy was the only one who could give it to her. She felt Randy slow his pace down and she growled low in her throat. This was no time for him to be going slow. She was about to reach the top and he was going to finish what he started. She grabbed his hand and forced his fingers in deeper. Wincing from the sudden penetration, she continued to guide his movements. She felt herself get hotter as he sucked on her bottom lip.

Finally, she felt her mind go blank. She didn't think about how wrong what she was doing was. She didn't think about how impossible it would be to face him again. She didn't think about what she would do if Trish ever found out about this. All she could feel were surges of pleasure running through her body.

Randy Orton looked down at the trembling woman in his arms. He had just given another woman her orgasm. And it seemed like a strong one by the way her thighs were shaking. Randy smirked. He loved to feel a woman's thigh shaking afterward. It always told him he was as good as he thought he was. He could feel himself growing more aroused as he watched Stacy breath heavily. It was his turn. He lowered his head to her neck once more but she pushed him away. Randy stared at her angrily. He wanted to be satisfied just as he had satisfied her.

"I think I have to go," purred Stacy, pulling her skirt down from around her waist.

Randy glared at her as she attempted to fix her hair.

"I just gave you the best orgasm of your life and you want to walk away?" His voice was dangerously low as he glared at her.

Stacy rolled her eyes. "Don't kid yourself sweetie. I've had better," she scoffed. She turned to walk away but looked back at him. "You might want to get someone to help you with that," she said looking down at his visible erection.

Randy growled as he watched her walk away. For the second time that week. He punched the wall in anger. He was supposed to be the one that was using her. Not the other way around. She had gotten all the pleasure while he was left standing there to find some random chick to relieve his tension. He stalked back to the crowd of people and picked out a brunette. He would have no time to make his usual inspection. She would have to do.

Thank u all sooo much 4 the reviews: **LATINGURL1523, MIC-MAC-GIRL**, and **RANDYJOHNSGIRL**- thanx 4 the reviews and I hoped u enjoyed ur update! **BRITTANY, RKOSMKJNH**- I hope ur happy with the randystacy in this chapter and thanx 4 the review of this story n my other 1 but that was a 1 shot n I don't think I can write more on it cuz I wouldn't kno what 2 do with it sry! **REEMA**- lol thanx 4 the review n I didn't realize I was makin John an asshole, but I'm glad u like. **SOULLESSLY COLD**- I'm glad u think I'm a good writer, I really appreciate ur advice. As u can c I took it n I hope ur happy with the update.

Plz review 2 let me kno what u all think, I luv advice n input of any kind :)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE. 

Torrie Wilson grunted in pleasure as she took him in. She needed this. After going for so long without sex, she deserved it. She ran her nails along his back as she squeezed her eyes shut. He was pumping into her as if his life depended on it. She arched her back as she felt the familiar waves of pleasure run up and down her spine. She was a sucker for that feeling. It didn't matter whom it was with. As long as she could feel that delicious tingle, she didn't care.

She pulled her skirt back down as he pulled out of her and breathed deeply as she attempted to slow her racing heart. She smiled sweetly at the young man who was looking at her with wide eyes.

He was a good-looking guy; he knew that. Nevertheless, he always had to drop a few lines before a girl would let him do what he had just finished doing. But not her. She had just met him a week before and here she was now, pulling her skirt down after she had pushed it up herself and invited him to fuck her.

"What?" asked Torrie, annoyed that he was staring at her. He should be thankful. He was nowhere near being a big superstar. She had done him a favor, she knew none of the other divas would give him the time of day because he was still new to the business. But she thought he was hot, and that was all that mattered.

"Do you even know my name?" he asked staring at her incredulously.

Torrie shrugged as she ran her fingers through her hair. "No," she responded shortly. Was that even important? She needed a good fuck and he was the first one she had seen. He wouldn't say anything to anyone. She was sure he wasn't close enough to anyone yet to share any details; even if he did say something, it was her word against his. And who would believe a rookie over her?

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" he questioned.

Torrie rolled her eyes. "Yes I have a boyfriend, if you must know." She glanced at him and before he said anything else, she sensed his next question. "It really isn't any of your business why I don't have sex with _him_. Maybe he just doesn't satisfy me. Or maybe I'm mad at him and I'm not giving him any. What does it matter? You should just be happy that you got some and stop asking so many damn questions," she snapped. She pushed him out of the way roughly and wrenched the door open.

Breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that no one had seen her step out of the janitor's closet, she proceeded to walk down the long corridor. It wasn't her fault she loved sex. The fact that John wouldn't treat her like a princess gave her every right to abstain in any sexual acts with him. But not anyone else. She didn't care if he was getting irritated at being shot down every time he tried to initiate something. As long as he wanted it, she had the power in their relationship. And now that she had gotten what she had been craving for, she could focus all her attention on beating the hell out of Christy.

(X X X)

The small Canadian chewed her bottom lip nervously. Why did she feel like a giddy schoolgirl? It wasn't like her to be so worked up about a guy. She had been in the business long enough to have seen and experienced everything at least once. She had done far more nerve-wracking things. Like all six times she had gone out to the ring and won the Women's Championship. Sure, she had been nervousabout thattoo. But not like this. For the first time in a long time, Trish Stratus was afraid of putting herself out there, and being rejected. The Championship wins had been planned, this wasn't.

Suddenly, to her horror, the door she had been standing in front of slowly opened.

"Hey Trish, what brings you to my corner of the hotel?"

Trish forced a smile. Maybe if he weren't so big she wouldn't be so speechless. But he was a towering 6'5 and it didn't help that he was one of the hottest men she had ever laid eyes on.

"Hey Dave," she responded. She was surprised to hear her voice sound so calm. A look of confusion came over her features. Why _was_ she so nervous? Was it because for once _she_ was the one that was approaching someone? It wasn't her fault that she was always the one being asked out; she supposed it had something to do with her looks. But after having her trust so brutally betrayed by Randy, she doubted any man who went up to her. Who could blame her? Anyone could understand that she was paranoid about getting with any other guy. But Stacy had come to her room and encouraged her to meet up with him. And she couldn't say she didn't want to, she was just afraid.

"So… do you wanna come in?" His deep voice broke into her contemplations and she nodded her head. She caught a whiff of his cologne and her stomach stirred. She always did like a man who smelled good.

"You smell nice," she said, turning to smile at him as he shut the door.

Dave Batista glanced down at the beautiful woman who had unexpectedly shown up at his door. Why she had decided to come to him he had no idea. But he was happy she had.

"Well thank you. You smell pretty nice yourself," he returned.

Trish followed him as he led her to the spacious living room. His hotel room was the same as hers, only with a slightly different color scheme. She sat down on the plump cushions and toyed with the tassel of a nearby pillow. He was so nice, she thought randomly. Trish gritted her teeth in determination. Why should she be nervous around anyone anymore? He had never acted as if he had a double agenda with her and she needed to let her guard down eventually. Why not start with him?

"So, any particular reason you decided to grace me with your presence?"

Trish looked up with a new fire in her eyes. Where she had gotten it she didn't know. But it was there and she was running with it.

"Just wanted to know if you were doing anything later tonight?"

Dave shook his head slowly. He had never thought Trish to be a nervous woman. Yet here she was, attempting play off her apprehensiveness and act cool and collected. He had heard about what happened to her. How much Randy had hurt her and how careful she was to all the men she talked to. But here she was now, asking him out on a date.

"Trish Stratus… are you asking me out on a date?" he teased. He grinned as he saw her cheeks turn bright red, but she tipped her chin up defiantly and looked at him calmly.

"So what if I am?"

"Well, if you are, than I accept. But since you got to ask me, I get to choose where we're going."

That hadn't been so hard. He was smiling easily at her and she couldn't help but grin back at him. It was strange how he made her so relaxed. When had she last felt like that?

"All right Dave," she sighed, pretending to give up. "Where do you want to go?" She was expecting him to say a nightclub or a bar; after all, that was where most of her dates ended up.

Dave smiled mischievously. "Have you ever been mini golfing in the dark?"

(X X X)

"Randy…Randy! Oww, stop!"

Randy Orton pushed himself off and glared angrily at the woman lying beneath him. She looked up at him with confused eyes.

"Why the hell were you doing it so hard?" demanded Candice Michelle.

"I wasn't doing anything hard babe. You ever think maybe you can't handle me?" He shook her hand off violently as she attempted to massage his shoulders. She was fine every now and then. But she was always _there_. She presented no challenge. No matter how loud he yelled at her to get out of his face as soon as he finished with her, she always came back for more.

"Is something wrong?" she asked wrapping the sheets around her naked body. She had gone to his hotel room knowing full well what he would do as soon as the door shut behind her. Sure enough, as soon as she had stepped into his room he wasted no time in ordering her to take off her clothes.

"Nothing's wrong. Maybe I just don't want to fuck you anymore," snapped Randy.

A frown marred the face of the diva. She sighed as she began to dress herself. She wasn't getting what she wanted from him tonight that was for sure. She had noticed that he had been a lot rougher with her, almost as if he had been deprived. But he hadn't been deprived; she had visited him earlier that week and she was sure that many other women had as well. Which was fine by her, she had a boyfriend at home. She didn't want to start a relationship with him, she only wanted him to fulfill her desires even if he treated her like trash the second he was finished.

"Well, _something's_ wrong with you. I get the feeling your mind's somewhere else," she declared, stepping into her shoes. She stood up and threw a last glance at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes fixed on the setting sun. She could almost feel the anger in the way his muscles were flexing. What could have made him so mad?

"I guess I'll see you later." Candice shut the door to the bedroom and walked across the living room out into the hall.

Randy tore his gaze away from the window. Truthfully, he didn't know why he had been so rough with Candice. He had practically ripped the clothes off her body and he was sure she would have to use a lot of makeup to cover the marks he had left on her neck.

He ran a hand through his short hair. It wasn't that Stacy Keibler was anything special. He knew there were other beautiful woman who would give it up easily. But that was precisely what made him so mad. The fact that she kept refusing him when no other woman had done so. He shook his head as he thought back to the two instances where she had gotten the better of him. He had seen and felt her desire, so he knew she wanted him. She was probably poisoned against him by Trish. That bitch couldn't keep her mouth shut and he knew they were good friends.

But it didn't matter. If Stacy wanted to play games with him, he show her that he didn't play games. Sooner or later she would give in to him and he would have another girl to brag about.

(X X X)

"Say it!"

"Stacy! Get off!"

"Not until you say it!" The leggy diva struggled to remain sitting on the squirming young man. He attempted to push himself off the couch, but she had twisted his arms to the point where he could barely move them.

"I'm not gonna say anything! You cheated!" he exclaimed. He groaned as he felt her poke a finger into his stomach.

"Dude, you may as well say it. She's not letting you go anywhere." The bigger man was seated on a chair, watching in amusement as his two teammates acted like 5 year olds.

Gregory Helms shot him an angry look. "You know, you're my partner, your supposed to be the one that's helping me out!"

Rosey shook his head laughing. "I help you out when you have three hundred pound men sitting on you. Not when you have a hundred pound girl on you."

"Hey!" protested Stacy. "I weigh more than a hundred!" The distraction was all Greg needed as he finally managed to wriggle his hands free and jumped up from the couch.

"Ha! And I didn't have to say anything!" He gloated at his escape but his smile faded when he saw the pout that was upon her lips. "Stacy…"

"I beat you fair and square! It's not my fault you can't play video games. And you said if I won you would tell me I was the best. Liar," she accused.

Greg rolled his eyes and raised his hands in defeat. "All right, all right. Stacy Keibler, you are the champion of video games."

Stacy's eyes lit up at his words. "And…?"

"And…I suck," he finished. He flinched. He was never going to hear the end of it now.

"Well of course I'm the best," she smiled. "Can you go get the champ some food? Kicking your ass made me hungry," she teased.

"Ha ha," replied Greg dryly. He turned to go into the kitchen but yelled over his shoulder. "We'll see what happens next time!"

"I swear, every time you two are together, it feels like I have to baby-sit you," commented Rosey.

Stacy smiled at him. "Well its not my fault Greg is so immature." She was prepared to plop back on the couch to wait for Greg to bring her food, but she caught sight of the clock.

"Oh crap! I have to go and see Trish!" she exclaimed. She began to gather her things when she saw the look Rosey was giving her. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied shaking his head. "Greg is gonna be sad your leaving."

Stacy rolled her eyes. "I know you two don't know what to do with yourselves when I'm not with you, but I promised Trish I would go to the gym with her and talk about some stuff."

"Alright, have a good workout. Don't worry about us, we'll just be here cryingbecause you left us," he said attempting to imitate her own pout.

Stacy laughed as she threw a pillow at him. "Greg I'm leaving," she called.

"Where are you going?" Greg appeared in the doorway with a disappointed expression on his face.

"I'm going to the gym with Trish; I'll see you two later." With that, the blond diva waved a goodbye and stepped out of the room.

"You look like your dog just got run over," Rosey observed as soon as the door shut.

"Nah, I'm ok," shrugged Greg.

"Are you ever going to tell her how much you like her?" asked Rosey quietly.

"I don't know man. I… I just don't know," he finished. He shook his head as if to rid the lingering doubts. He wanted to tell her more than anything. He wanted her for himself. He wanted her to know how much he adored her. But he would keep his mouth shut and make both their lives easier by not making things uncomfortable between them. Even if that meant he had to watch her be with someone else.

(X X X)

The anxious redhead got off the floor as she finished doing her last set of stretches. She shook her hands and made her way to the mirror for a last minute look.

"Hey, you're that new girl from Raw aren't you?"

Christy turned to smile at the brunette who had spoken.

"Yea, Christy Hemme," she said.

"I'm Dawn Marie," she returned smiling brightly. She looked over her wrestling gear and raised an eyebrow. "So you're the one that's wrestling Torrie?"

"Yea… why?" asked Christy noting the skeptical tone in her voice. As if she wasn't nervous enough about having to put on a good match.

"Well, Torrie's my friend and everything, but she plays dirty," whispered Dawn lowly. She motioned for Christy to join her on the couch and Christy obliged. "I mean, she may not seem like the nicest person backstage, but that's because she doesn't think she gets enough air-time. I guess that's what makes her walk around like she has a stick up her butt," she paused to giggle at her own joke. "But anyways, you seem like a nice girl and all, so I think I should warn you to stay away from the ropes. She likes to use them to win, and don't let the ref turn his back because she'll choke you."

Christy soaked in all she had said. Most of the girls she had wrestled acted professional in the ring. It sounded like Torrie was anything _but_ professional.

"How do you know all this?" she asked curiously.

"I've gotten into the ring with her a couple of times," admitted Dawn.

"How can you still be her friend after she did that to you?"

The friendly diva shrugged her shoulders. "I guess maybe she gets a little carried away? I don't know, I don't want to make any judgments on her."

Christy shook her head. "You're a better person than I am," she said. "Thanks for the advice though, I'll see you later," she smiled as she headed for the door.

"Good luck," called Dawn.

(x x x)

Christy groaned in pain as she felt another hard knee to her stomach. Dawn really wasn't kidding when she said Torrie was unprofessional. She had attempted to choke her two times already, and only let go when the ref had threatened to disqualify her.

She winced as she felt Torrie pull her hair and force her to her feet. Christy reached around and shoved her hands down. That was enough. If Torrie wanted do it the hard way, Christy would comply.

As she swung around to face her, she brought her hand out and slapped her. Torrie grabbed her cheek in shock; she wasn't expecting Christy to fight back much. Glaring at the redhead, she tried to hit her back, but bent over instead clutching her stomach as a hard kick connected. She winced as she felt another to the back of her thigh. Of course, she remembered, Christy was a kicker. She attempted to stand up straight but she fell on her back as Christy suddenly tackled her.

"Get off me you bitch!" screamed Torrie as Christy straddled her and proceeded to bang her head against the canvas. To her relief, the ref broke it up and told Christy to get off. Glaring at her, Torrie got to her feet only to be knocked back down by a hard clothesline.

Christy Hemme smirked down at her opponent. She knew what she needed to do. She stepped behind Torrie as she attempted to get to her feet. As soon as she was in a vertical position, Christy grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her neck under her arm, setting her up for the Twist of Fate. She smiled as the crowd started cheering. With a sense of confidence, she raised her right arm and swung it around to wrap around the back of Torrie's neck. She dropped down suddenly and connected. Hurrying around to the side, she pinned Torrie.

"1...2...3!" As the bell sounded Christy let go of Torrie's leg and jumped to her feet excitedly. She beamed at the crowd as they cheered for her and she heard her name being announced as the winner. Suddenly, she remembered the advice Lita had once given her. Never turn your back on your opponent. Sure enough, as soon as Christy looked back at Torrie, she was prepared to administer a clothesline. The ref let her hand go as she ducked to avoid it, and instead, he was the one that was hit. Christy ducked between the ropes as Torrie yelled at the ref for getting in her way.

She shook her head as she saw Torrie continue her tantrum in the ring. "What an idiot," muttered Christy under her breath as she walked up the ramp.

(X X X)

"So?"

Trish Stratus hid a small smile. "So what?" she asked pretending not to know what her eager friend was referring to.

Stacy rolled her eyes at her friends attempt to be coy. She knew Trish couldn't keep a secret from her for long, so it was only a matter of time.

"You know what I'm talking about Trish. If you don't tell me what happened between you and Dave…" she left the sentence unfinished.

The small Canadian laughed as she continued turned down the speed on her treadmill. "Well," she started slowly. "I went to his room and I kinda froze. But then he answered the door, and I don't know, he just has a way of making me feel calm. So, I went in and he smelled so good! And you know how much I like guys who smell good," she pointed out. Stacy nodded, impatient to hear the rest of the story. "But anyways, we just sat down and I asked him out. So he said yes, and he asked me if I had ever been mini golfing in the dark. I guess that's where we're going," she finished.

The leggy blond smiled widely. This was too perfect. Already she could tell that Dave was different from Randy. Mini golfing as a date might not have been the most romantic choice, but ifTrish was happy, she was happy.

"This is so great!" exclaimed Stacy. She slowed the machine to a stop and jumped down. She leaned against the treadmill as Trish kept running. "You need to calm it down girl. You want all your energy for your date tonight," she teased.

"I don't think I need that much energy to swing a stick and knock a ball into a hole," the smaller blond retorted as she kept running.

Stacy giggled. "That sounds so dirty."

Trish rolled her eyes but laughed at her friend's joke. "Real mature Stace."

"Get off and come with me to the steam room," suggested Stacy.

"I don't want to. I don't really like steam rooms that much," Trish responded shaking her head.

"Fine, I guess I'll go alone," pouted Stacy.

Trish let out a short laugh. "That look might work on guys, but it's not gonna work on me."

Stacy huffed as she realized she wasn't going to be able to guilt her friend into joining her. "Alright; I'll see you in about half an hour?"

"Yea," agreed Trish, turning the speed back up.

(x x x)

Stacy Keibler let out a satisfied sigh as she sunk onto the wooden bench. The wood was pleasantly cool and she was thankful the gym had sprung for good quality models. She looked around lazily at the empty room. Most people were working out and she had managed to sign up for an empty sauna. Good thing too, she wasn't wearing much under her towel and she didn't want anybody gawking at her. She unwrapped the towel from her body and laid it out under her as she adjusted the small strapless top. If she couldn't go nude, wearing the small suit was the next best thing. She closed her eyes as she felt the steam work its magic on her. After taking a cold shower, this was a refreshing change. She could almost feel her troubles melting away as she felt a small droplet roll slowly down her arm. After being on the road for so long, and all the craziness going on with a certain superstar, she couldn't think of a more perfect way to unwind.

Her mind slowly drifted to him. She didn't know why he was so eager to get with her. He had never really paid much attention to her before their meeting at the vending machine. Sure, he had whistled at her sometimes as he hung out with his buddies to show off, and at times he had made rude comments loud enough for her to hear, which made Stacy want to kick him where it hurt the most, but besides usual jackass behavior, he paid no special attention to her. So why start now?

He probably wants someone else to brag about, thought Stacy distastefully. She wished she could resist his efforts forever; he wouldn't be able to brag about screwing every diva if he hadn't screwed her could he? But Stacy knew it was hard. The two times he had tried to claim her, she had just barely managed to refuse him.

If only he wasn't so sexy, thought Stacy ruefully. As much as she hated his attitude and view towards women, she couldn't deny the fact that she wanted the same thing he was after. Stacy let a soft sigh escape her lips as she thought of how much desire he was able to bring out of her. It almost seemed like he didn't even have to try very hard, one look from him and she could already feel herself growing hot. No other guy had ever done that to her.

Stacy bit her lip as she thought about his kisses. Both times he had kissed her he had been harsh. Maybe that's what made him so sexy, pondered Stacy, the fact that he didn't treat herlike she would break, as almost everyone else did. The way he looked at her when he wanted her…

Stacy shifted on the wooden seat. She needed to stop thinking about him. She could already feel herself getting worked up at the mere thought of him. How amazing that he could arouse these feelings in her when he wasn't even there.

Stacy lifted her hand to stroke her neck. He always seemed to enjoy that part of her body. She remembered how careful she was of applying her cover-up that day after their meeting in the club. She didn't want anyone asking her about the hickeys he had left and she was sure he had done it on purpose for some twisted reason. Probably to try to claim me, thought Stacy. But it had felt so good. Even if she had to wear the results of his less than gentle bites, she enjoyed every second of what he did to her.

(X X X)

His eyes looked over her body hungrily. What were the chances that he would find her here? It was just too perfect.

He swallowed hard as he saw her raise her hand and stroke her neck. This was just too much for him to bear any longer. She was practically naked in that little suit and the way she was touching her neck…

He cleared his throat suddenly and chuckled as he saw her eyes snap open and look at him in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Better question is what you're doing?" he asked in return. He watched as she sat up and began to wrap the towel around herself. Not if he could help it. Before she could stop him, he stepped forward and snatched the towel from her hands.

"Give that back!" she exclaimed, shooting up from her seat and taking hold of the end of the towel.

Randy smirked as he continued to hold the towel. She was crazy if she thought he would give it to her so she could hide her body from him.

"I like your suit," he said, making a point of letting her catch him checking her out. He raised his eyes to her face and noticed she had a light blush. Anyone else would have thought it to be from the humidity of the room, but Randy knew better.

"I don't care what you think about my suit," she snapped, struggling to pull the towel out of his grip. Her eyes widened as Randy jerked the towel towards him. She tensed up as soon as she felt herself fall against his chest.

"Oh but you do care sweetie. You know you think your hot shit ever since you won that Babe of the Year. But no one else's opinion matters," he lowered his head to whisper in her ear. "Only my opinion counts."

Stacy struggled to maintain a cool composure. How big was his ego? Millions of people voted for her and here he was telling her that only _his_ opinion mattered. Stacy stiffened as she felt his hand on her lower back tracing the hem of her bikini bottom. If he kept this up any longer she was going to lose it. The fact that she had just been thinking about him doing this to her combined with the warmth of the room was making her legs tremble with desire.

"I couldn't care less what you think," she managed to say amidst her heavy breathing. But she did care what he thought, as much as she hated to admit it. She forced herself to put his hands to his chest to push him away. However, Randy sensed this and grasped both her hands.

"I don't think so babe. You've left me just when shit was about to get started and its not happening this time," he murmured against her ear. Stacy closed her eyes tightly. She wanted to walk out of the room so badly and leave him there fora third time. But she already knew the kind of power Randy had over women. Just a couple of whispered words and he was able to get whatever he wanted.

Stacy moaned as she felt his tongue against her neck. How he had gotten this good with his tongue, she didn't know. The only thing she was aware of was the wetness between her legs and the aching for him in the pit of her stomach.

She attempted to wiggle her hands out of his grasp, but he pushedthem against her chest, forcing her to stumble back on the large bench. She glared up at him as he smiled. She looked away from his gaze and instead averted her eyes to his six-pack. It was then that she noticed he was only wearing a white towel, loosely wrapped around his waist. Good Lord, had he _planned_ this?

"Like what you see?" Stacy forced herself to look away and focused on the door she so badly wanted to go out of.

"Don't even think about it sweetheart," he said, noticing where she was looking. As if to reinforce his statement that she couldn't get away, he pushed her shoulders down so she was lying on the bench and placed a knee between her thighs.

"Get off," hissed Stacy. She arched her back as he suddenly dipped his hand and started to rub her over her bikini bottom. He traced slow, tantalizing circles against her clitoris. She knew he was skilled with his fingers, she had felt what he had done to her in the club.

Randy's lips curved into a smirk as he felt her respond to him. She was pushing herself harder against him, silently begging him for more. He shook his head as he withdrew his hand. She would learn that he didn't play games; he got what he wanted when he wanted.

"Take your top off for me," he whispered huskily. He watched as she stared at him with glazed eyes. At first she shook her head to refuse him but he took a handful of her hair and forced her head up to meet his. He licked her lips softly, not allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. "Take your top off for me," he repeated against her lips. Stacy whimpered and he bit her bottom lip so she would obey his request.

She did as he asked and reached around her back to unhook the small top. She struggled to unclasp the small hook with trembling hands. She was going to expose herself to him. If Stacy had been in the right state of mind, she would have pushed him off of her, but after the way he had touched her, she wanted to feel all he had to offer.

Randy's eyes drank in the sight of her. Sure, he had been with women who had bigger breasts, but in the long run, breasts weren't the only quality that counted. Stacy had a sort of unabashed confidence. She wasn't afraid to turn him on and leave him to fix his own problem as soon as she got her pleasure. If he didn't know her better, he would have concluded that she had the potential to follow in his footsteps. Randy almost laughed out loud. She wouldn't do that to him. She was too nice a girl to ever use anyone for sex like he did.

Stacy groaned in pleasure as she felt Randy place a hand over her breast. His touch was far from gentle and his roughness made her more excited. He grazed his thumb over her nipple, bringing it to attention. He pulled at itjust then and Stacy dug her nails into his back as she felt his lips close in around an aching nipple. He swirled his tongue around it and bit hard enough to make Stacy gasp. It had hurt, but the last thing she wanted him to do was stop.

She breathed heavily as she felt him between her legs. He was hard and she could feel it. His penis was rubbing against her thighs, teasing her. Before she had a chance to think twice, she pushed the towel down and it fell behind him to the floor.

"I knew you wanted me," she heard Randy whisper. But she didn't care, she didn't just want him, she _needed _him.

Randy Orton gripped her waist tighter as he felt her rub against him. If she kept this up, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from shoving himself into her as hard as he could. He looked down at her, her skin was flushed and she was biting her lip hard. Randy took her hand and coaxed her into grabbing him. He groaned as she took the hint and wrapped her hand around his manhood. Randy forced himself to stay on his elbows. The way she was stroking him made him weak, but he didn't want to fall on top of her; she was too small to bear all his weight. Randy gritted his teeth as he felt himself becoming harder in her hand. He had to have her now.

Pushing her bathing suit down her long legs, Randy stuck a finger into her moistness. She was more then ready for him. Withdrawing from inside of her, he positioned himself over her eager body. Stacy seemed to sense what was coming because she gripped his shoulders tightly. Randy let out a satisfied moan as he eased himself into her. No matter how many times he had done this, he always loved the feeling her got when he first entered a girl.

Stacy gasped as she felt him sliding into her. He was much bigger then she had expected. She hadn't been intimate with a man for a while, and she was sure it showed. She let out a small whimper as he continued to push himself into her. It started to hurt, but she didn't want him to stop. She wanted to feel all of him. Stacy wrapped her legs around Randy's waist to force him in deeper. He complied and thrust hard into her. She scratched her nails in his back at the sudden pain. It soon subsided into pleasure as he began to pump in and out of her. He was amazingly agile. His movements were smooth with ease of practice and he gripped her tightly, wordlessly telling her he was in full control.

Randy lowered his head to rest on her shoulder. He never imagined she would be so tight. Most of the women he had had sex were loose. Why else would they sleep with him after only an hour of sweet-talking? His lips found her ear and he flicked his tongue against her lobe. If he didn't distract himself with something else, he was going to lose it too soon. The way she grinded her hips against him as he went in and out was making him crazy. He didn't know if she was doing it on purpose or if it was something she usually did every time she had sex. The small way she swiveled her hips felt so good.

He began to increase his pace as he felt himself reach his peak. It didn't matter if he hadn't lasted as long with her as with all the other women. She was getting close to the top as well, and right now the only thing he wanted was to be able to feel the powerful orgasm they were both so quickly reaching.

"Randy..." muttered Stacy furtively as he increased his speed. She was about to lose it fast. The way he filled her felt so good that Stacy couldn't help the way her body reacted to him. She wished she could hold out longer, but the only thing she wanted now was release. She cried out as the strong waves hit her body. Her body trembled as she was racked with the powerful orgasm. She could feel Randy tremble above her as he experienced the same feeling.

Stacy sighed in contentment as she began to calm down. That had been amazing. She held him as he tried to regain his breath. She couldn't believe she had done it in a steam room, where anybody could have walked in at anytime-

Stacy's eyes widened as she remembered Trish. She was still in the gym. She sat up suddenly, forcing Randy to roll off her.

"What the fuck?" he asked angrily.

Stacy glared at him. What had she just done? She had just had sex with a guy who treated women like shit. After all her talk about never falling for his trap, she had fallen. After all her speeches to Trish about how he was good for nothing, she had gone and had sex with him. Suddenly Stacy felt dirty. The room was too stuffy. Trish was right; steam rooms weren't all that great.

The leggy diva grabbed her top and towel. She wrapped it around herself and stood up. She looked back at the young superstar who was looking up at her with an arrogant look on his face. Why wouldn't he be cocky? thought Stacy bitterly. He had just added someone else to his list of women he had fucked. She felt a lump in her throat but she refused to let him see her cry. That would only make her appear weaker. She turned her back and stalked out of the room, leaving him staring after her.

Randy looked at the door she had just walked out of. S_he_ had just walked out on _him_. She hadn't even given him a chance to catch his breath and she was pushing him off of her. Who did she think she was to toss him aside like she didn't want him anymore?

Randy narrowed his eyes. He had just gotten what he wanted, but it didn't feel complete. He would fuck her again, he promised himself as he lay back down. She had been too good to use for just a single time.

(X X X)

John Cena shook his head as he watched the monitor. That was it, he thought sadly. He was _definitely_ not getting any tonight. He had hoped that maybe if Torrie won against Christy, she would be in a better mood and give it up. But she had lost, and from the looks of it she was throwing a tantrum in the ring. Never a good sign. She would probably come back to the locker room and scream at him for something. He groaned as he thought about it. He really didn't want to be there when she came back. Maybe if he gave her a chance to cool down she would be in a better disposition when he returned?

John sighed as he lifted himself off the couch and headed for the door. It was worth a try. He let the door shut behind him and wandered aimlessly down the hallway. He didn't really have a destination, but he supposed he would go to the cafeteria. Torrie stayed away from there because she was on a new diet and she complained that the cafeteria food was too fattening.

He let out a snort. Torrie wasn't fat to him. But then again, he had always liked his women with meat on them. He didn't see the point of dating a girl who looked like a toothpick, what where you supposed to grab during sex? And girls who were on diets annoyed him. They criticized everything they ate and were often bitchy. And Torrie had definitely been acting like a bitch these past few weeks. Although he couldn't really blame the diet because she had just started that a few days ago.

"Thanks for the warning."

John lifted his gaze off the ground as he heard the familiar voice. Sure enough, he saw Christy Hemme speaking to Dawn Marie. She had a smile on her face and he could see her eyes shining brightly even from where he was standing. He walked up to the two girls and pulled lightly on Dawn's hair. She jumped in surprise and turned around to face him.

"Hey John!" she greeted.

"Wassup ladies?" returned John.

"Not much," answered Dawn. She checked her watch and looked at them apologetically. "Sorry to have to leave you guys, but I have to get going. Congratulations on your win Christy." She waved goodbye and walked away from the two.

John turned to Christy, looking at her wrestling gear, with a smirk on his face. He always liked the clothes the girls wore, even though they often complained it was too skimpy.

"Nice outfit," he commented.

"I'm so glad you like it," replied Christy sarcastically. She had tried to persuade the people in charge of wardrobe to put her in something halfway decent, but to no avail. Her top was low cut and her red bra could be seen underneath. The skirt was longer then the ones they usually gave her, but just as tight.

"Damn girl, I was just givin' you a compliment," said John. He continued to stare at her red bra and finally his eyes drifted downwards. "It brings out your ass."

Christy rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms across her chest. "What is your obsession with asses?" she asked.

John chuckled. "I dunno," he shrugged. "I like everythin' about 'em. I like the way they look… the way they feel… the way they sound…"

Christy raised an eyebrow in confusion. "The way they sound?"

The young superstar nodded in agreement. Before Christy knew what he was doing, he lifted his hand and she felt a hard slap connect with her backside.

"I love the way they sound," repeated John laughing at her surprised look.

"Oww! You can't just go around slapping my ass whenever you feel like it!" she exclaimed, rubbing where he had hit.

"Why not?" questioned John nonchalantly.

"Because one day your gonna get slapped back," said Christy. She shook her head at his actions. She didn't mind being spanked. She liked it actually, but John had a girlfriend, and she wouldn't do anything with him when he was going out with Torrie. Even if she couldn't stand her.

"Wait, are you gonna slap me? Cuz I think that would be pretty hot," said John suggestively, stepping closer to her.

Christy took a step back. She didn't want to lead him on. "I probably will hit you one of these days, but I can promise you won't like it," she warned.

"Oooo girl that's cold. I don't wanna get kicked in the family jewels, that's just wrong. I thought you liked it kinky."

Christy stepped around him and opened the door to the women's locker room.

"Who said I didn't like it kinky?" she teased as she shut the door.

John smiled as the door closed. She was a fun girl, he thought. And hot, he added, thinking back to her wrestling gear. He couldn't help it if she had a nice ass that was just begging to get slapped, he reasoned. Besides, John had seen the look in her eyes after he had done it. She liked receiving it as much as he liked giving it.

He sighed as he continued on his way to the cafeteria. He would have liked to see how freaky she really was. Hell, he wasn't getting any action tonight, who could blame him? One day he would get her to show him. Sooner or later he would find out how daring redheads _really_ were.

Once again, I really wanna thank u all 4 all the reviews! It makes me real happy that ppl take the time 2 read _and_ review. **DANAYA**- Thank u 4 the review, n I am honored 2 b on ur list. **FIDELITAS**- I'm glad u liked the chapter, I reallyhad funwriting the ending. **RKOSMKJNH**- I'm so glad u like the story, and I really enjoyed writing the ending, I wanted Stacy 2 turn the tables 2. I like writing about JohnChristy cuz their innocent compared 2 RandyStacy; I also luv TrishDave! **REEMA**- I'm glad u like John as an asshole, I never imagined him 2 b extremely mushy and Randy's attitude is just fun 2 write about cuz he plays it so well on TV. **RANDYJOHNSGIRL**- I'm happy u think the chap is good, I luv writing about their relationship; or lack of. **SOULLESSLY COLD**- I'm glad u think it's a great chapter and that things r getting interesting; I would hope so! And don't worry, things WILL happen between them along those lines…but I'm not telling! lol **MIC-MAC-GIRL**- So glad u like it, I like writing the chaps and the updates will keep on comin. **RIKKUANDCHRISTY4LIFE**- I'm glad u love it!

I luv all the feedback every1 is giving me, and I'm really happy u like the story. Review plz :)


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE.

Once again, sorry 4 the long wait. I just got my internet back n this is the 1st thing I'm doin. As you can see, I added TrishDave 2 the summary b/c they will b a part of the story. Not as big a part as the others, but I jus luv em 2 much 2 leave em out! lol And of course, I cant go 1 day without talkin about em...White Sox:)! lol On with the story.

The small Canadian tried desperately to stifle a giggle. In all her years of being in the WWE, Trish Stratus had seen some pretty funny things.

There had been the time Matt and Jeff Hardy had dressed up in her lingerie and run around backstage terrorizing everyone. The time Hunter had been caught in an equipment closet with a fan with his pants around his ankles and Chris decided to take snapshots to post around the arena. And how could she forget when Eddie and Rey had tempted Christian with "good homemade food" only to have him spend the rest of the night on the toilet cursing at them while they stood outside the door laughing at his "weak stomach"?

But this wasn't just funny; it was downright adorable. Here was Dave Batista, one of the biggest men in the WWE and current World Heavyweight Champion, gripping a small golf club, his face screwed up in concentration, attempting to knock a ball into a hole less than a foot away.

"You never told me you were so bad at this," piped up Trish hoping to make him miss another shot. Truth be told, she was quite enjoying the sight he provided when he bent over.

"I never said I was good," he countered not looking up. Trish giggled quietly. "Hey, it's not nice to laugh at my poor mini-golfing skills," he reproached feigning hurt.

Trish shook her head. "I'm not laughing at that fact that you suck," she corrected. "I'm laughing at the fact that you haven't managed to knock the ball in in the past eight turns. I'm no good at this either, but I made it in five turns," she smiled proudly.

"Well, aren't we cocky," returned Dave. His face lit up as an idea struck him. "Tell you what, since you think your so good at this, why don't we make a little wager?"

Trish shook her head. Overtime, she had learned that men were highly competitive. But she had just seen how bad he was and he wanted to make a bet? "Alright, what'll I get out of this?"

Dave chuckled. "You think you've got it in the bag huh? Alright, if I win, you have to do me a favor, and you can't back out of it."

"Alright," agreed Trish readily. There was no need to be weary of what he had in mind, she reassured herself. She had seen his skills and she was sure she could win. "But if I win, you have to go shopping with me. Without complaining."

"Alright, alright," he groaned. "I never got why girls liked shopping so much."

"Great; by the way, I take the term shop till you drop very seriously," she warned teasingly.

Dave smiled as he looked down at the ball he had been chasing around for almost 5 minutes. With an expert flick of his wrist, he sent it cleanly into the hole. Bending over to retrieve the ball, he caught the surprised look on the blonde diva's face. "Did I ever tell you I used to play golf in my spare time?"

(x x x)

"And that, my dear Trish, is how you play mini-golf."

Trish Stratus shot a sarcastic smile at the boasting man beside her.

"You're such a hustler," she accused.

"Why thank you," he replied, a swagger in his step. He held the door open for her as they stepped into the night.

"Oh stop trying to be a gentleman Dave. I don't buy that act anymore," Trish said pretending to be mad.

"Ouch, that hurts. How can so much bitterness come from such a small woman?" he asked slyly. He was well aware she hated when people made fun of her petite frame.

Trish laughed and swatted his arm. "I can take you down any day," she declared confidently.

"Oh is that so?" The tall superstar raised an eyebrow. "You couldn't last five minutes with me sweetheart," he said opening her door to his rented SUV.

Trish rolled her eyes as she waited for him to come around. Every man had a big ego, but for some reason, with him she didn't mind so much.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you were challenging me," stated Trish.

Dave pulled out of the parking lot with a smirk. "Maybe I am. I want to know why you've been the Women's Champ six times." Trish beamed. She always liked to be reminded that she was the only woman to hold the championship a record six times.

"Well I'll be glad to show you sometime," she replied.

"Why not tonight?"

Trish's smile faded as she averted her gaze to the window, a frown forming on her features. So she had been wrong. Dave was just like any other man. He had just invited her up to his room to see if he could get lucky. He wanted the same thing every guy who bought her calendars and magazine covers wanted. To be able to say that he had slept with Trish Stratus. He wanted the same thing Randy wanted. She sighed deeply as the truth hit her. If her brief fling with Randy had taught her anything, it was that the person with sexual power always won.

"Sure Dave, I'll go up to your hotel room," she answered. Her voice was void of any of the previous warmness. If he thought he was just going to get lucky because of the rumors she was sure Randy had spread about her, he had another thing coming.

Dave glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed more distant now. Her face was turned away but her whole body language screamed that something was wrong. He shrugged it off. Maybe she was just tired.

He pulled smoothly into an empty spot and was about to walk around to her side when he heard the loud slam of the door. His brow furrowed as he found her leaning against the large truck with her arms crossed.

"Are we going to stand here all night or are we going up?"

At her cold tone, Dave grew more confused. Had he done something wrong?

"Is something wrong?"

Trish gave a bitter laugh. Of course something was wrong. Here she had been thinking that she could finally grow to trust a man. And the first guy she had let her guard down for had asked her to join him in his hotel room to "show him her moves."

"No Dave. Nothings wrong. I just want to show you what I got," she answered in an overly sweet voice. Might as well let him believe he had gotten away with it, she told herself. Because as soon as the doors were closed…

Dave stopped in front of the door to search for his keycard. The big superstar had many good qualities, but being organized wasn't one of them. His body tensed as he felt small hands run down his arms.

"Can I help you find something?" Trish hid a smile as she felt Dave stiffen under her touch. She stood behind him as her hands went slowly down his large arms and into the pockets he was searching in. Taking his hands out and inserting her own in place, she slowly began to dig in his pockets. Purposely, she went dangerously close to him, but withdrew her hands as she took out the keycard.

Dave held his breath as he felt Trish slowly rub against him as she walked past him into his room. Was she doing this on purpose? He would have thought she would have wanted to take things more slowly after what he had heard. Was she really ready to be intimate with a man after what she had been through? However, he never got a chance to finish his train of thought as he felt a punch connect with his shoulder.

"Trish, what are you doing?"

She nearly laughed at his confused expression. "I'm showing you my moves" she replied innocently. He told her he wanted to see what she had. And she refused to show any mercy. He had tried to take her for a slut; she would show him what kind of girl she was.

Dave narrowed his eyes as he studied the small woman in front of him. Was she serious? She was more then a foot smaller then him and at least half his weight. What had gotten into her? He had just been teasing when he had said he wanted to see her moves. Dave's face fell as realization struck him. He had said he wanted to see what she had. How bad did that sound? She probably thought he wanted to sleep with her, he realized.

"Trish, I-"

He was cut off as he felt kick to his thigh. He put his arm up to stop her from what looked like a punch aimed for his face.

"Listen Trish, I didn't invite you up here so I could sleep with you," he started. "I just wanted to talk-"

Trish's face darkened in anger. "So you just wanted me up here to _talk_?" she sneered. "Yea, I'm sure that's the reason Dave. Listen, I don't know what that jackass has been saying about me, but if you think I'm going to sleep with you just because-"

Dave caught her hand again just as she was about to slap him. Sure, he had heard what Randy said about her. At one point, he and the young superstar had been good friends, but after the disintegration of Evolution, they had drifted apart and now they hardly talked. But just because he had listened to Randy didn't mean he believed everything he said.

"You're right; I have heard all the shit Randy's said. But that doesn't mean I believe it," he responded angrily. What kind of man did she think he was? Did she really think he would invite a girl up to his room because he heard she was easy? Dave pushed her hand down roughly and stood stoically facing her.

"So you honestly think I'm going to believe you when you say you only invited me up here with pure intentions?" Trish rubbed her arm. He had been gripping her pretty hard. Did he even know how strong he was? She disregarded her doubts as she went for a roundhouse kick. To her surprise, he caught and held her outstretched leg to his side, leaving Trish struggling to maintain her balance.

"Look, I know it might have sounded wrong, but you have to believe me when I tell you I had no intention of sleeping with you because of what Randy's saying. If I believed half the shit that comes out of that boy's mouth, I would have tried to sleep with you and half the locker room by now." Dave swung her leg down hard.

The small diva winced at his harsh words. She _wanted_ to believe Dave was different. She was tired of having to put on a hard front to protect her heart.

"If I find out your lying to me…" she left the sentence unfinished as she continued staring him down.

Dave relaxed. "If you find out I'm lying I give you permission to beat me up," he finished.

Trish snorted. "Like I need your permission."

Dave smiled. Here was the vibrant Trish he was hoping to get to know. He still felt a distance between them, but maybe overtime he could convince her he was different from all the other men she had ever been with.

"So, if you don't want sex, what was that favor you wanted?"

Dave smirked as he motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen. "Who said I didn't want sex?" he chuckled at the look of indignation on her face. "But actually, I have been hearing some things backstage."

Trish frowned. What else had Randy been saying about her? "What else did he tell you?" she asked tightly.

"Not Randy sweetheart. I've heard from some very reliable sources that you make a mean quesadilla. So guess what you're cooking up tonight?"

Trish smiled warmly as she walked to the fridge. She had never done anything so innocent this late at night in a mans hotel room. And she liked it.

(X X X)

"That bitch doesn't even know what she's doing. She just got lucky with that stupid move. I mean really, how hard is it to copy someone else's style?"

The young superstar clenched his fists as he continued to listen to his girlfriend whine.

"John, are you even listening to me?" Torrie Wilson crossed her arms across her chest as she glared at John, lying on the bed with a pillow over his face.

"Babe, I think I got that Christy was a bitch the first five times you said it," came the muffled response.

"Well, your gonna hear it as many times as I want to tell you. Damn it John! You're my boyfriend and your supposed to listen to me!" she exclaimed angrily.

John rolled his eyes in frustration. Sitting up, he tossed the pillow aside. "Well you're my girl, and every time I try to tell you about MY day, you tell me to get over it. Or when I ask you to do somethin' for ME, you tell me you're too busy. Or when I try to get with you an' you tell me you don't feel like it. You see a pattern? I been listenin' to your bitchin' for about an hour now, an' I got better shit to do." Intent on getting some peace and quiet, John reached for his cap.

"Where are you going?" cried Torrie getting out of her seat to snatch the cap out of his hands.

John glared at her as he wrenched his cap back. "Babe, Raws here an' I'm goin' over to chill with the guys. If you got a problem with it, you can yell at the wall cuz I'm gone." He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a hard kiss before walking out.

Torrie's body shook in anger. He was getting too smart with her. And it all started when that WHORE came to Smackdown. Before Christy had come, John had been at her beck and call. He almost never lost his temper in hopes of getting some. That was how it was supposed to be. She liked being able to dangle the temptation of sex to get what she wanted. But now John didn't even seem interested in her.

"Asshole," muttered Torrie. She stood facing the window as she thought back to her previous relationships. She had never truly loved anyone, she realized. But men weren't meant to be loved, they were meant to be used. And she was happy doing that, even if she had to break some hearts along the way. She wouldn't give John up without a fight. He was a big player in the business and she would manipulate him until she wanted to. They didn't call her a bitch behind her back for nothing.

(X X X)

Christy's eyes fluttered open as she heard a knock. She had dozed off after showering and the loud noise startled her awake. Stifling a groan, she dragged her feet as she went to open the door, hoping to get rid of whoever it was quickly.

"Hey!" Dawn Marie stood in the hallway with a bright smile.

"Hey," replied Christy less enthusiastically. She couldn't understand how Dawn could have so much energy. The few times she had talked to her, she seemed like she would rather be jumping up and down instead of standing still.

"I wanted to get you cuz me and some of the girls are hanging out and I wanted you to come," she said.

Christy sighed. She didn't really want to go anywhere, but the hopeful look on the brunettes face implored her to say yes.

"Sure, let me just get my shoes," she agreed. She grabbed the keycard from the nearby table and shut the door while listening to Dawn's chatter.

"Wait, Raws here?" interrupted Christy after hearing her mention Trish and Stacy.

"Yea, that's why I wanted you to come. They're gonna be there and so are Lita and Victoria," she said. A few minutes later they stopped in front of a door.

"Hey!" The door opened and a smiling Victoria ushered them inside. "Dawn! I haven't seen you in ages!" she exclaimed hugging her. "Hey Christy, how's Smackdown?" she asked flashing Christy a big smile. Christy returned her smile. She had always liked Victoria, even if she WAS a little scared of her. The raven haired woman was intimidating even though she was sweet off screen.

"It's good," responded Christy.

"Well, the girls are over in the living room. I hope you're ready to eat cuz for some reason Lita brought about a ton of junk food," she joked.

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm a better host then you." Christy grinned as she heard Lita's voice. She had been her trainer and she owed a lot to the redhead who was now sprawled on her stomach busy with a carton of ice cream. "Hey," she greeted to the two newcomers. "Help yourselves," she motioned to the small mountain of junk food.

"Stacy, Trish! I've missed you so much!" exclaimed Dawn giving both a hug.

"Hey! What about me?" protested Lita, looking up at her.

Dawn giggled as she snatched the ice cream out of Lita's hands. "You I didn't miss so much," she teased.

"If you don't give that back, I'll sit on you!" threatened Lita jumping up and standing over the small brunette.

"How could I not miss you and your wonderful sense of humor," laughed Dawn.

"So keep telling us about your date with Dave," urged Stacy reaching for a bowel of chips.

"You went out with Dave?" Christy blurted out. She blushed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She hadn't meant for it to come out like that, but she was surprised Trish had gone on a date with _anyone_.

Trish nodded. "I know, I didn't think I could ever get the nerve to ask him, but Stacy came up to my room and _forced_ me to do it."

The leggy blond rolled her eyes. "Right, cuz you didn't _want_ to?"

Dawn giggled. "Dave is hot," she commented. "So how was it?"

"Well, if I _have_ to tell you again," Trish sighed rolling her eyes. She couldn't help but smile. It felt good to finally be able to relax and talk to her friends. "Alright, so he picked me up from my room," she started.

"What was he wearing? Cuz I cant imagine Dave in anything but a suit," interrupted Christy. Trish laughed.

"He was wearing black pants and a button down shirt; I don't think any of us is ever going to see Dave in sweats and a t-shirt," she answered shaking her head.

"Maybe you'll get to see him with nothing on," said Lita raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Lita!" exclaimed Trish throwing a pillow at her head. The laughing redhead easily ducked. "Do you want to hear about my date or not?" asked Trish exasperated.

"I wanna talk about Dave," piped up Dawn.

"What about Dave?" asked Trish raising an eyebrow in interest. If they had any news on him, she wanted to know. And if anyone could tell her, it was Dawn.

"He's a nice guy," assured Dawn.

"Forget nice, is he any good in the sack?" broke in Victoria with a wicked grin on her face. She was always the one to ask the blunt questions.

"I don't know," shrugged Dawn. "I know I haven't slept with him. I would remember something that big in my bed."

Trish blushed. She didn't know why she was feeling protective of him. He wasn't hers to begin with but she felt like only she could talk about something that private about him.

Stacy seemed to notice her friend's awkwardness because she cleared her throat loudly to catch the attention of the giggling girls.

"So _anyways_, can we talk about someone else's sex life?" she suggested.

"Not mine. I haven't been getting any for a _while_," sighed Victoria dramatically.

"Sure you have, I saw you getting all cozy with Romeo," pointed out Lita.

Victoria glanced away as a blush crept onto her cheeks.

"So it's true?" cried Trish laughing. "Aww, maybe he'll even let you borrow his boa Vic!"

"Shut up," replied the raven haired woman letting out a smile. She _had_ been talking to Romeo lately. She supposed the saying "opposites attract" had been proven true. He was so energetic and she was usually laid back, but for some reason she found herself going out of her way to talk to him.

"Well my love life is nothing compared to Lita's," she said trying to shift the attention off her. She had always liked to keep her relationships private.

Lita shook her head at her friend's obvious attempt for distraction. "Well if you_must_ know, Matt and I still keep in touch and Edge and I are just _friends_." She knew there were rumors of her and Edge, but she had never liked him as anything more then a friend and she was determined to tell anyone who would listen.

"Last time I checked, you were involved in the worst love triangle imaginable," Stacy said.

"Well that's where your wrong blondie," shot back Lita. She laughed again as she saw another pillow heading her way. "What the hell you guys? Cant I just enjoy my ice cream in peace?"

"Not with that big mouth of yours," answered Trish.

"Fine, fine," she said reluctantly. "I'll keep my mouth shut. "

"So how's the married life Dawn?" asked Victoria.

Dawn smiled widely, ready to tell all. "He's so great! I mean, I thought it was gonna be harder with me being on the road so much, but he completely understands. We talk to each other all the time and he says the sweetest things," she sighed at the thought of talking to him again that night. Everyone knew her as the bitch on-screen and the sweet one backstage, but Chris knew every side of her and she loved being able to be so open with someone.

"Well, lucky you," said Trish making a face. "We, on the other hand, haven't been so lucky. The only thing I can ever find are assholes," she muttered.

"Dave seems like a really great guy though," insisted Christy. She didn't know why she was sticking up for the big guy so much, but while she was on Raw, he was one of the few guys who made an effort to make her feel welcome.

"Yea, he does seem really nice," agreed Trish shrugging her shoulders. "But I've been fooled before," she added under her breath.

Stacy looked sadly at her best friend. She knew who Trish was referring to.

"You need to leave him in the past," she whispered. The last person she wanted to talk about was _him_, but it seemed inevitable.

"Is she thinking about that asshole again?" interrupted Lita loudly.

Stacy shot Lita a look and Lita sighed, looking down at her melting ice cream. She pushed the carton away and looked at Trish again, who was staring absently at a vase of flowers.

"Listen Trish," the fiery redhead began, "We've all been tricked by the Legend Killer," she said, a note of disgust in her voice. "He seems like a great guy to hang out with before you _really_ get to know him."

"Yea," agreed Dawn quietly. Everyone turned to look at her and she blushed. "Well he was on Smackdown, and we just kinda… you know," she stammered.

"Weren't you already seeing Chris?" asked Stacy confused. She never would have imagined Dawn capable of cheating.

The small brunette nodded. "Well, he was new so I didn't really know him," she explained. "I was seeing Chris at the time, but we got into a fight and I was just so mad. So when Randy invites me out for some drinks, I said yes," she sighed remembering the details clearly. "And then he invited me back to his hotel. He kept telling me I was beautiful and Chris didn't deserve me. And…it just happened." She cast her eyes down at the carpeted floor. She didn't like bringing it up and she almost felt as if she was cheating on Chris all over again.

Stacy swallowed hard as she looked at the small brunette. Apparently Randy had started using women before he even came to RAW. She thought back to the steam room with a look of anger on her pretty features. If she hadn't felt bad about it before, she felt bad about it now.

"I still remember it too." Stacy looked over at Lita who was now lying on her back and staring blankly at the ceiling.

"I was going out with Matt, but he had ditched me to go somewhere with his friends. I was fine with it really, I mean every couple needs to be apart every once in a while right? But he came up to me and started to talk." She took a big breath and continued.

"He just started talking to me all the time after that. And I heard some people tell me how he treated women, but I guess I didn't really want to listen. I mean, say what you want, but Randy's a hot guy." Every head in the room nodded in agreement, including Stacy who was feeling her stomach drop with every word that Lita uttered. She had hoped he had been exaggerating when he had boasted that he had gotten with every woman in the locker room, but apparently he was telling the truth.

"So one day, we're just talking and one thing led to the next," Lita trailed off. "I don't even know why I went along with it. All I could remember was how much I wanted him."

The room grew silent as she finished her story. Stacy looked down at her hands, which were clenched tightly. She knew what Lita was talking about. She regretted everything that had happened, but she could still remember how strongly she wanted him. It was like he had something over every woman he had been with that prevented them from saying no.

"Didn't you get with him too Christy?" Stacy glanced up at the diva search winner who was nodding shyly.

"I didn't really know anyone," she began quietly. Stacy felt bad for her. It must have been hard for her to admit this to them. She was already looked down on because of the contest.

"So when he started hanging out with us girls, we all thought it was cool. We just thought he was being nice for even acknowledging us. Then he invited some of us to a club," Christy paused. She didn't want to retell her story for fear they would think less of her. But she had learned to be more careful now.

"And he was just egging us on to drink and dance and act crazy. Kept saying we should get used to it because when we worked for the company he would take us out everyday. Every one of us believed him. So he went off with Candice somewhere, I guess now that I think about it he probably had sex with her at the club. At least he had the decency to take me back to his hotel room. After we were done, he just told me to get out," she finished her voice almost a whisper.

Stacy felt like a large weight had been placed on her chest. She didn't think she could think less of Randy, but after hearing the girls tell their stories, she felt like hurting him like he had hurt them. She realized she had been lucky. He hadn't had a chance to treat her like shit before she had walked out on him.

"Didn't you get with him at some point Vic?" asked Lita.

Victoria nodded her head, not meeting anyone's eyes. It hadn't been her proudest moment. "I was feeling lonely and he took advantage, I really don't wanna talk about it," she finished quickly. She wasn't supposed to be like all the other girls. She was supposed to be stronger and tougher, but even she couldn't escape the charms of the Legend Killer.

"I guess we've all been there done that," concluded Lita.

"Not Stacy," said Trish proudly.

Stacy felt her cheeks growing hot. If only Trish knew.

"Well, good for you Stace, just take our stories and learn from them," suggested Dawn.

Stacy bit her lip, engrossed in the hem of her skirt.

Trish looked at her friend curiously. Usually Stacy was the most outspoken when it came to Randy. She was always ranting about what an ass he was, but during their whole exchange of experiences, she had been strangely quiet.

"Is something wrong Stace?" she asked.

Stacy shook her head numbly. She felt like her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. She couldn't tell Trish; not yet.

"Can we talk about some other guy?" suggested Lita. She didn't feel like reveling in her past mistakes, and she didn't want her friends to do so either. "Dawn, does Torrie know about this?" she asked suddenly.

"No. You guys said you didn't want her here so I didn't say anything," answered Dawn.

Victoria gave a loud sigh. "Good, I wouldn't want her to bitch at you because you didn't invite her. She can't even wrestle, what does she want airtime for? To stand around and look like an idiot?"

Christy couldn't help but laugh. She was glad she wasn't the only one who wasn't fond of Torrie.

"I saw some of your match," Lita said smiling smugly. "I taught you well."

"You were a good teacher," agreed Christy. She smiled as she practically saw Lita's ego get bigger before her eyes.

Trish groaned. "Please don't feed into her ego. She's already stuffed herself with enough ice cream, she's gonna explode soon."

"Jealous," said Lita in a sing song voice.

Trish opened her mouth with a retort but Dawn interrupted them. "I feel sorry for John though," she said.

Christy's ears perked up at the mention of the brash superstar's name. As much as he annoyed her, she often found herself thinking about him.

"Why? Is Torrie not giving him any?" asked Lita. "Cuz Johns like a sex addict. And Torrie can be a prude, even though we all _know_ she's a slut. I still remember when she and Jeff were going out. I kept asking him if he wanted me to take him to a strip club to ease the sexual tension."

Dawn laughed at her friend's antics. "Yea, John does like sex; whenever him and Torrie are out he tries to start something, but Torrie always shoots him down. It's kinda painful to watch," she said shrugging. "And he's such a cool guy."

"Yeah," agreed Victoria. "The first time I met him at one of Vince's party he was cracking me up," her eyes twinkled at the memory. "I kinda have a crush on him," she admitted.

"Oh honey, who doesn't?" said Trish. "He looks like he can make you laugh one minute and have you moaning his name the next."

"Now who's the one with a dirty mind?" asked Lita laughing.

Trish shrugged; she never put a hold on her tongue when she was around her friends. "Well it's true. I mean, not only is he good looking; he's taken. That raises his appeal automatically. Can you imagine what he would do if he had the chance?" she sighed.

"With all that pent up sexual aggression," mused Dawn.

"He's kind of a jerk," said Christy thinking back to her past encounters with him.

"That's what makes him so sexy," explained Lita. "I mean, we all _say_ we want the nice guy, but honestly? That can get boring fast."

"Yea, but we don't want complete asses," added Stacy thinking about a certain superstar.

"True," said Lita. "But I think it's hot when they treat you like you can take it. I don't wanna be treated like I'm gonna cry every time they raise their voice at me."

"So yelling makes you hot?" questioned Victoria. "Wow, you're a freak Lita."

The redhead smiled. "No argument here. The reason I think we all like John is cuz he acts like he doesn't care about anyone. So we wanna feel like we're the only girl he _does_ care about. And none of us can say he's a nice guy, cuz I've heard him talk. He's funny, but he doesn't sugarcoat _anything_."

Christy sighed as she listened to her former trainer. Everything she said was true. John didn't act like he was ready to get serious with anyone. Which was why she thought it was strange he was going out with Torrie. He had to know there were other women willing to throw themselves at him. But he didn't seem to care.

"Well I'm glad a have a husband," declared Dawn. "I don't have to worry about this stuff cuz me and Chris know each other so well."

"I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say get your happy, married butt out of here," said Victoria motioning for her to leave.

"So I guess none of you want to join me tonight?" asked Dawn.

"To where?" asked Lita eagerly.

"I wanna go to a club later and I thought it would be fun if we just made it a girl's night out," answered Dawn. "But guess if you don't wanna go…"

"Oh we're going," said Trish firmly. "But if the club sucks, you're buying us all drinks."

"Don't worry, you wont remember your names by the end of the night," promised Dawn.

Christy sighed. Her plan for a quiet night was thrown out the window, but she found herself eager to spend more time with the girls.

(X X X)

"So I had her up against a wall and she kept screaming at me to get it in."

Randy rolled his eyes as he took a slow sip of his third bottle of beer. Chris had been bragging about his sexual encounters for the past twenty minutes, and frankly, it was getting boring.

"And there was this other chick in California. Man that girl was a freak. She kept trying to go down on me while I was driving. I had to pull over and give her a little taste of Y2J." Chris sat back smiling at the small group of guys listening. His eyes narrowed as his gaze settled on Randy, who looked like he was about to fall asleep.

"Hey junior, you might wanna pay attention; you could learn a thing or two."

Randy scoffed as he set his beer back on the table. "Thanks, but no thanks. A freak isn't a girl who goes down on you while you're driving. A freak is a girl who lets you watch her and her girlfriend make out and invites you to join." He smirked as he saw every jaw hit the floor.

"Where do you find these girls?" asked John.

"I don't, they find me," responded Randy.

"Well, I think me and you have to hang out more," muttered Shelton Benjamin. He was the newest addition to their group, and he still wasn't used to the way they talked about women. He had always been raised to be respectful, but it was hard when he constantly had Randy in his ear calling them 'bitches' and 'whores'. Or when he had Chris boasting about how many different positions he had managed in one night. Or the graphic details John went into about his experiences.

"Man, you know I think its bullshit when you say you get with all these women," said Chris loudly. "I mean, I believe you pick up random chicks, cuz there are sluts everywhere we go. But when you say you got with all the girls in the locker room? They know what an assclown you are, why would they sleep with you?"

"Throw a name out at me," challenged Randy.

"Alright, Lita?"

"She was a tough one," started Randy. "But I got to her when Matt wasn't there and I talked to the bitch afterwards. It was good. But I got slapped when I told her to get the hell off me when we were done."

Chris looked at him agape. He regained his composure as he thought of someone else. "Victoria."

Randy shook his head. "She was easier. I got to her on Valentines Day. Saw her acting all mopey and shit so I went over and she was whining about being lonely. Told her she would find someone and she believed me. She got out without saying anything. Probably thought she was a slut like one of the diva search girls she's always complaining about."

"How many of the diva search girls did you get with?" asked Chris. "I got with Candice and Carmella," he added proudly.

"That's decent. You probably got with them after me though," said Randy smiling as he caught the disappointed look on Chris's face. "Got with Carmella when all the girls were out somewhere. She was too whiney afterwards. I practically had to push her out the door. Then Candice, I got with her at this club. Practically pulled me into the bathroom. With Maria, I got with her the day after. She kept telling me she wanted to do it again real soon. Oh, and I got with Christy after I finished with Candice at the hotel. Man did that redhead cuss me out. I guess redheads are just feisty," he concluded.

John gripped his beer tighter. It was his first bottle and it was almost full. He had never been a heavy drinker, but at that moment he took a long swig. Randy was his best friend, but he had never agreed with how he talked about women. And he grew even more uncomfortable at hearing him mention Christy.

"Well, I don't even have to ask you about Trish," said Chris, interrupting his thoughts. "You bragged about her so much I think even the techies know about it. So who's left?" wondered Chris out loud, trying to think back to all the women. Suddenly a leggy diva popped into his head. "Have you gotten with Stacy? Cuz she doesn't seem like she would do a jackass like you."

Randy's smile faltered. He had never had to lie when he retold his encounters. He always told them exactly how it was, right down to how he would kick them out. But that was the problem with her, he hadn't kicked her out. She had walked out on him. And that wouldn't make him look good.

"I'll get her," he said finally.

"Ha!" cried Chris triumphantly. "I knew you hadn't gotten with every girl."

"I don't know why you're so happy," retorted Randy. "I've gotten with more then you have. So I think I won whatever game it is you're trying to play."

"Damn, if it makes you feel better, you've been getting more then I have," tried John.

Chris laughed. "No offense man, but with Torrie as your girl I think the bum down the street has been getting more ass then you."

John shot him a glare but kept his mouth shut. He couldn't argue what was true.

"Why are you still with her?" asked Randy. He couldn't understand why anyone would limit themselves to just one girl.

John shrugged. "I don't know. I don't wanna be all bogus and break up with her just cuz she's not horny all the time."

"Good enough reason for me," declared Chris.

"That's why your never going to get a girl," shot back John.

"You know," broke in Shelton, causing everyone to look in his direction. "I might be new to this, but why would you stay with someone who doesn't give you any when you have so many options?"

John frowned. "Man, ya'll need to stay out of my business."

"Don't blame it on us she's treating you like shit," said Randy. "I've seen you two out. She doesn't even let you touch her. And I know you John, if you had a chance you'd screw a girl under the table at a restaurant."

"Let's leave lover boy alone," said Chris. "We need to worry about getting some ass ourselves. I'm getting antsy just thinking about the bimbo I took home yesterday."

"We can head out to a club," suggested Shelton. He was anxious to bring something to the group. He might not have gotten with as many women as Randy, but he had a knack for picking the hottest night clubs

"Alright, meet back here at around nine," said Chris. "Is Torrie gonna let you go out John?" he teased unable to resist.

"Funny," replied John shortly. He was getting tired of everyone teasing him about Torrie. "I'm goin' whether or not she wants me to," he said firmly. He deserved to be able to go out and find fun if she wouldn't provide it for him. And he _would_ have fun, he told himself. John had never cheated before, but he couldn't control what a girl did to him could he?

(X X X)

"I just love the color of your hair."

Christy smiled. "Thanks," she said, attempting to shift her gaze to the clock.

"Nooo," reproached Dawn Marie, pulling gently on her hair to make her face towards her again. "If we're late they're waiting for us."

Christy smiled. She hadn't had a friend do her hair in such a long time. The only people who ever fixed her hair anymore were the wardrobe girls, and they never said anything.

"Alright sweetie, you're all done," she said finally allowing Christy to look in the mirror. Christy's eyes widened in surprise. Her hair had never looked more vibrant. It was shining beautifully and falling down her shoulders in soft waves.

"How did you do it?" she asked softly touching a strand.

"Well if I told you that, then you wouldn't need me to do it for you anymore," chirped Dawn.

Christy smiled. She had just met Dawn, but she felt as if she had known her her whole life. Suddenly, Christy heard the soft ring of her cell phone.

"I'll be right back," she said to Dawn who was now busy with her own hair.

"Hello?"

"Christy."

Her smile faded as she cursed herself for not checking the caller ID first. She knew she would call eventually. It was just a matter of time. But why did she have to call when she had been having such a great time?

"Hey mom, how's it going?" she said halfheartedly.

"How do you think its going?" she snapped. Christy sank down on her bed. Usually she would make small talk and then get around to making Christy feel guilty. But it seemed like she was wasting no time today.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" screeched her mother. "I'll tell you what's wrong. I went over to your Aunt Sarah's house for dinner the other night. And of course, Mickey just had to watch that stupid show of yours. So when he called us all over because you were on TV everyone came. And sure enough we saw _you_. We saw you in underwear straddling some poor girl and flashing everybody."

Christy fumed. Torrie Wilson was anything _but_ a poor girl. "Mom, I did what I had to do. As for my wardrobe, I tried to get them to give me something else, but they wouldn't let me."

"I could see your bra! Under garments are meant to be under your clothes Christy. Oh Lord the only thing I wanted to do was get out of there. To have to say that its _my_ daughter dressing and acting like a prostitute is just too much Christy. Where did I go wrong?"

Christy clenched her jaw as she felt her eyes burn. She couldn't let herself cry. Dawn had done her makeup and she was supposed to go out and have fun, not listen to her mom berate her.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she said quietly.

"I raised a girl who's happy shaking her ass to get a rise out of men Christy. The same thing a stripper does. Tell me, what separates you from the girls down at a strip club?"

Christy shut her eyes tightly as she felt a tear force its way out. _Why_ did she let her get to her like this?

"Mom, what me and the girls do is different-"

"How?" exclaimed her mother loudly. "The only difference is your over paid and your seen by more people."

"Its not true!" burst out Christy angrily.

"Don't tell me what's not true Christy. I know what I see and the only thing I saw was my daughter acting like a stripper. If you would only _think_ about how much embarrassment your causing me-"

"I have to go," cut in Christy. She flipped her cell phone closed and hurled it at the armchair across from her. She saw it fall soundlessly to the floor through blurred eyes.

"Christy, ready to go?" called Dawn.

Christy wiped her eyes carefully. "I'm ready," she called back, her voice shaking slightly. She looked angrily at the reflection staring back at her. Every time she called, Christy would feel ashamed. And she was tired of it.

"I'm ready to get drunk," she said to Dawn as they grabbed their purses and went to meet the girls.

Alcohol might not be able to make her mother's biting comments go away, but they would help numb the pain. And that, Christy decided, was good enough for her.

(X X X)

"I cant believe little miss married can actually pick a good spot."

Stacy gave a small smile as they entered the club. Lita and Victoria had been teasing Dawn since the hotel, and it didn't look like they were letting up anytime soon.

"Hey! Just because I have a ring on my hand doesn't mean I've lost my talent," protested Dawn as she led them to the bar. As was expected, almost every male head turned their way. But Stacy didn't worry. She knew most men were intimidated by large groups of women. So she wouldn't have to turn away too many, she hoped. Just the thought of having to make meaningless conversation with some guy made her stomach turn.

"I'll have a martini," she said abruptly as they sat down.

"I guess I'm gonna have to be the sober driver," sighed Dawn.

"Hell yea!" exclaimed Lita. "I sure as hell aint!" She pounded on the table loudly causing everyone to look towards her as she ordered a scotch on the rocks.

"Looks like someone's trying to find their solutions at the bottom of an empty bottle," muttered Trish in Stacy's ear. Stacy looked over at who Trish was talking about and saw Christy downing a beer.

"Maybe she just likes to drink," shrugged Stacy. She bit the olive and slowly sipped her own glass. She wouldn't get drunk, she promised herself, but she wanted to feel that delicious buzz.

"Why were you so quiet?"

Stacy tapped her fingers along the edge of the bar. She didn't want to talk about anything remotely concerning Randy, but she knew Trish wouldn't quit until she got what she wanted.

"I didn't really have anything to say," she tried. Trish looked at her skeptically.

"You looked like you were about to throw up," she pointed out.

Stacy bit her lip nervously. "Well… what he did was just so disgusting."

Trish stared over Stacy's shoulder as a sour expression came over her face. "Yea, well, you might wanna run to bathroom now."

Stacy's brow furrowed in confusion as she followed Trish's gaze. Her blood ran cold as she saw him. He was dressed in his usual dress pants and button down shirt. Along with John, Shelton, and Chris.

"I cant believe he had to come _here_," said Trish in disgust. She balled her hands into fists as she pictured herself punching him. A black eye would definitely lower his chances of getting with anyone tonight.

Stacy turned her back to them. Maybe if she faked a sick stomach she could go home.

"Hey Trish, come do a body shot on me," called Lita. She had obviously had more then Stacy to drink because she was giggling non stop and waving her arms around. Trish rolled her eyes at Stacy as she stood.

"I'll be back in a little bit," she said to Stacy.

Stacy nodded weakly. She sat as a crowd gathered around the blond bombshell and the daring redhead. She always knew Lita liked attention.

Stacy licked her lips as cast her eyes over the crowd. She didn't see a sign of the guys. Good. She would go to the bathroom and then tell the girls she wasn't feeling well. Maybe by the time she came out they would be so distracted they couldn't tell she was lying.

"I hope so," muttered Stacy pushing her way through the crowd. Finally, after ignoring several catcalls, she emerged in the more deserted hallway for the bathroom. Suddenly, she felt something holding her back.

"Hey, going in there to freshen up?"

Stacy shook the hand off. Looking up, she faced a tall man, who was clearly enjoying the sight of her small dress.

"Could you not touch me?" she snapped.

"Well now, how can I resist? Pretty little thing like you's just begging to be touched. And I'm just the guy to do it right," said the man lowly.

Stacy's lip curled in disgust. Not only because of the way he was hitting on her, but because she was fed up with egotistical men.

"I don't need anyone to touch me," she snarled. "Much _you_."

The man frowned as he took a step towards her. "You might not want to talk to me like that baby."

Stacy took a step back as he kept advancing on her. "If you don't get away from me I'll scream," she tried desperately.

The man snorted. "In that case, I can just cover your mouth," he made a motion of doing so when he was stopped.

"Is this how you get your rush?" Stacy glanced over the mans shoulder. Her stomach dropped as she saw the cold blue eyes of Randy Orton. He might be trying to be her savior, but she didn't think he was much better.

"What? Are you this chicks boyfriend?" scoffed the man backing off Stacy to face Randy. "I can take you down pretty boy."

Randy smirked. "Aw, you think I'm pretty?" The man stepped towards him suddenly with his fist raised. Stepping under his arm, Randy jabbed him hard in the stomach, bringing his knee up when he bent over to catch his breath to hit him in the nose.

The man clutched his nose, howling in pain. "You can have the bitch!" he yelled as he hurried away.

Randy looked after him smugly. Suddenly he seemed to remember Stacy because he turned towards her.

"I guess I get to claim my prize," he murmured walking towards her.

Stacy pushed herself against the wall. Not again. She promised herself she wouldn't let this happen. It didn't matter how good he looked in his suit, or how amazing he smelled, or how much his gaze made her knees weak…

Just as Randy put his hands on her hips, Stacy snapped out of his trance. She brought her arms up and pushed him away hard.

"Get away from me," she said through gritted teeth. A look of anger came across his features, but was quickly replaced with an easy smile that made Stacy want to slap him.

"Now Stacy, I know you like to play hard to get but I already _know_ how much you want me. Why hide it any longer?"

Stacy glared at him. "What happened in that steam room was wrong, Randy," she hissed. She pushed him away again as he attempted to take hold of her.

"Listen, I'm getting real tired of your good girl act," he spat at her. "You know you liked it."

"It doesn't matter," said Stacy angrily. "It was a mistake._You_ were a mistake."

Randy narrowed his eyes at her. He had been called many things, but never a mistake. Randy Orton didn't make mistakes, and he certainly wasn't one. He grabbed the nape of her neck forcefully and pushed her against the wall.

"I don't give adamn what you thought it was Stacy. I don't make mistakes," he growled staring into her eyes.

Stacy looked away from his piercing gaze as she attempted to move away from him.

"You're a fucken sociopath," she whispered fiercely. "You use and throw away women like trash, but when somebody treats you the same way you freak out." She gasped as he brought his mouth down hard, pushing his tongue inside. She forced herself to remain motionless, despite the strong desire to respond to him.

Randy pulled back abruptly. She hadn't kissed him back. He looked down at her flushed face and kiss swollen lips.

Stacy moved away as she felt Randy's grip loosen. "I don't want you Randy," she said, surprised at how calm her voice was. "The only thing I feel for you is pity. Because with the way you're going, you're never gonna to know what love is." She shook her head sadly as she walked back towards the bar. (X X X)

"What do ya think? That blond one over there or the brunette?"

John sighed as he listened to Chris discuss his choices with Shelton.

"I don't really know man. The blond one?" offered Shelton.

"I like the way you think kid," said Chris clapping him on the back.

"Is he always this loud?" asked Shelton.

"Nah. Just get him some ass and he'll shut up," answered John.

"Alright boys, I'm gonna leave you now. Try an get some nooky before bedtime," announced Chris grinning.

John shook his head. "Man this guy tries so hard its sad."

Shelton laughed. "I guess some people gotta work at their game," he said shrugging.

"Yea, good thing I was born with it," said John.

"Hey, isn't that Trish and Lita doing body shots?" asked Shelton suddenly. John looked to where he was pointing and saw the two divas.

"Lets go over and see if they wanna do body shots off us," suggested John.

"They would do that?" asked Shelton incredulously.

John shook his head at the younger man. "You gotta lot of things to learn."

(X X X)

Christy closed her eyes tightly as the shot burned down her throat. She had lost count long ago, but she couldn't care less. The only thing she cared about was the feeling the alcohol was causing and she welcomed it.

"Hey."

Christy glanced at the guy that had just sat down next to her. Good looking, she noted immediately.

"Wanna dance?" she asked. She didn't feel like beating around the bush. She had too much energy and emotion to just sit there drinking shot after shot.

"Sure," agreed the guy taking her arm and leading her to the dance floor. Christy took his hands and wrapped them around her waist tightly. It was a false sense of security, she knew that. But she could pretend the arms belonged to someone who really loved her.

She swayed her body to the music, pressing herself into him. She didn't care if she was getting a couple of stares. She wanted to shut out the world. The alcohol was slowly starting to take hold. She could feel her legs getting weak but she forced herself to keep dancing.

"I like the way you dance." Christy moved her head away from him. She didn't want to talk. She felt his hands getting close to the hem of her skirt but she let him. This was what her mother expected anyways didn't she?

Christy bit her lip as she felt his hands start to inch their way to her center. As much as her brain was telling her to stop, she didn't make a move. She wanted to feel like someone loved her. Like someone accepted her.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" Christy nodded her head, not fully knowing what she was agreeing to.  
She felt herself being pulled off the dance floor. She followed numbly behind the guy who she didn't even know the name of. She stopped suddenly as she felt someone else grab her hand.

"Christy, what are you doing?"

Christy turned her head slowly, shutting her eyes to block out the lights.

"She's coming home with me."

"No she's not. She's drunk, she doesn't know what she's doing."

"Dawn?" whispered Christy hoarsely as she attempted to blink away the haziness.

"Yea sweetie its me. Come on, lets get you home."

"I said she's coming home with me."

Christy was aware of voices, but she couldn't figure out who they belonged to. The only thing she could concentrate on was the pounding music. It seemed as if her head was about to explode.

"What's goin' on here?"

"John! This guy wants to take Christy home to rape her!"

"I'm not raping her. She agreed to come home with me!"

"Man, shut the fuck up. You know she's drunk off her ass right now, you so desperate you gonna take advantage of that?"

Christy breathed slowly. She was feeling dizzy. She felt herself falling down, but before she could hit the ground, arms wrapped around her.

"Man, take her. She's too wasted anyways."

"John, I have to take her back to the hotel."

"Nah, don't worry abut it Dawn. I'll take her back. You enjoy yourself."

"No! I have to take care of her!"

"Listen," John began patiently. "Ya'll need a guy to watch you. Shelton will do that. He hasn't had nothing to drink so he can drive you back."

Dawn hesitated. "Are you sure?" she asked finally.

"Go," urged John. He waved her off until finally she nodded and walked back to the bar, casting a worried look over her shoulder.

John sighed as he tried to get Christy to stand. She almost fell over again and he wrapped his arms around her instead, picking her up. He was halfway to the parking lot when he heard a faint voice.

"Put me down." He looked down and saw Christy staring at him with dazed eyes.

"Your too drunk," he shook his head firmly.

Christy struggled to get down, but he only tightened his hold. Opening the door, he set her inside, reaching over her to buckle her seatbelt.

Christy bit her lip at his closeness. Clean with a hint of cologne. She longed to bury her head in his arms. She winced as he slammed the door. Her head felt like it was full of cotton.

Leaning against the back of her seat, she closed her eyes. She felt like her legs were lead. She could hardly move her body and she was sure John was thinking she was a slut. Just like my mom, thought Christy. She gritted her teeth as the unshed tears from before came down her cheeks. It was just too much. She had spent all this time trying to prove to herself and to others that she was serious. And what did she have to show for it? Nothing.

"We're here," announced John. He looked over at Christy to find her face glistening with tears. "Yo, you alright?"

"I'm fine," she snapped opening the door and getting out quickly. She leaned against the truck as a wave of dizziness hit her. Before she knew it, John was at her side, taking her up in his arms again.

"I don't need your help," she protested. She pushed at him but he ignored her as he stepped onto the elevator.

"You're drunk girl. You cant even stand straight, what makes you think you can make it up without my help?"

Christy felt herself grow angry. She had survived this long without help from anyone. She certainly didn't need it now.

"Is this your good deed for the night or something?" she sneered. The elevator doors slid open and John stepped through, still holding Christy.

"Which room is yours?" he asked setting her down.

"56," she snapped annoyed. Suddenly, she felt his hand on her waist. She jerked back.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

John rolled his eyes. "I'm looking for your keycard," he answered calmly as he took it out.

Christy glared at him as he took her arm and led her into the room. His attitude was making her furious. He acted like he didn't even care about her.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

"What?" asked Christy confused at the sudden change of tone.

John's eyes shone. He didn't want her to know that seeing her almost sleep with some guy she had just met affected him. But he had never been able to control his temper.

"You were about to go sleep with that shithead," he said hotly. He took a deep breath to calm down. She couldn't see that it had made him upset.

"Why do you care?" shot back Christy. "Did _you_ want to go home with me? Are you just mad because he got to me before you did?"

"What the hell are you even saying?" fumed John. "Who said I wanted to sleep with you?"

Christy reeled as if slapped. "So I'm not good enough for you?" she asked offended. She took a step towards him and pushed him. "Doesn't everyone want to sleep with a diva search girl? They're all easy anyways aren't they? So I must be the biggest slut if I won," she stepped towards him until he stumbled on the armchair of the couch. He fell back and Christy put her hands on his knees.

"I know Torrie's not giving you any. So you probably thought if you played my knight in shining armor you could get some from me, isn't that right?"

John attempted to push himself up but Christy put her hands on either side of his head so she was hovering over him.

"You all think I'm a slut anyways. Why not just sleep with the Diva Search winner to add another notch to your belt?" Christy brought her knees to either side of his waist so she was straddling him.

John swallowed hard. As much as he wanted to get her off, he found himself responding to her. He admitted to himself that he had wanted her ever since the first time he had talked to her. She matched his sarcastic comments with her own, and he found the fact that she stood up for herself very attractive.

Christy lowered her head and flicked her tongue over John's dried lips. He was looking at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was. But Christy didn't care. The only thing she wanted to feel now was fulfillment. The kind that came only from a man. She lowered her head again and pressed a hard kiss to his lips, pushing her tongue in so he was forced to open his mouth. She could feel his resistance but she ignored his attempts to push her off. If he really wanted to he could have stopped her long ago.

John found himself surrendering to her. She was intoxicating. Before he knew it, he found himself rolling off the couch, pinning her underneath him. Something had come over him and he wanted nothing more then to feel her writhing under him.

Christy winced in pain as she felt her back hit the ground. She pushed herself into him as he continued to kiss her. She didn't want sweet. She wanted it to hurt. She wanted him to take away the emotional pain and replace it with physical. That kind she could deal with.

John reached to grab her hair as he grinded into her becoming harder with every movement of his hips. He could feel her desperation. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Her nails along his back hurt but he didn't stop her. Suddenly he felt her reach down and tug at his belt.

Christy eyes snapped open as she felt John stiffen.

"What?"

"I cant do this."

Christy stared at him as his words sunk in. She sat up and pushed John off angrily. She had just opened herself up to him, had shown him how much she needed him, and he said no.

"Get out," she said coldly. He got up slowly and opened his mouth but she didn't let him.

"I don't wanna hear it. I should have fucked that guy at the club. At least he would have had the decency to finish what he started." Christy felt herself shaking. She was hardly aware of the words coming out of her mouth. She only wanted to make him feel like shit, like he had made her feel.

"Go back to your little girlfriend John. Follow her around like a little bitch and hope she gives you what you want." She had never felt so angry in her life. And she didn't even know _why_. She looked into his blue eyes and gave up.

"Just go," she whispered as she sank down onto the couch. She buried her head in her hands, refusing to look at him anymore.

Christy choked back a sob as the door slammed shut. There was never going to be anyone who could help her fill the void. She could try to fill the emptiness with alcohol and sex, but it would still be there, glaring as ever.

"Alone," whispered Christy aloud. The word seemed to echo around the empty room. She stood and walked into the bathroom just in time to throw up.

Wooooo! 2005 World Series! Ahem, I kno u gotta b tired of my rantin but I cant help it! 88 yrs is _way_ 2 long. And I also cant help thankin all the wonderful ppl who have takin the time 2 read _and_ review: **RIKKUANDCHRISTY4LIFE: **lol, I didnt realize it sounded that way till I read it again! Thanx 4 ur luv! **RKOSMKJNH:** Sry 4 the long wait, I'm really glad u think the story is gettin hotter n hotter. I hate stories that lose steam after a couple of chapters, so I'll try 2 keep the hotness comin. **RANDYJOHNSGIRL:**So glad u like the story! Thanx 4 the review. **REEMA:** Glad u think its awesum! Sry 4 the long wait. **ABCABC: **I'm happy u found this fic 2! lol, I like the pairings 2 n I like writin about all of em. **FIDELITAS: **Right, the sex didnt work at all like it was supposed 2. N Stacy will change b/c of her encounter with Randy. I luv TrishDave and ChristyJohn so they're gonna b a part of this.Ur right on point! Thanx 4 the review. **NALA23:**Lol, dont wry, sumthin like that will happen soon enough, thanx 4 the review! **GURL42069**: I have fun writin this n I'm glad u have fun readin it; of course, who doesnt want John? lol **RKOANDLEGS4EVER: **I'm so glad ur luvin it:) **ANAMALIA-FEAR: **I'm glad u like the story, thanx!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE. 

Stacy Keibler squinted against the harsh sunlight as she buried her head further into the pillow. The last thing she wanted to do was get up from the safety and warmth of the covers to face another shooting of RAW. She groaned as her conscience took over. She really shouldn't be complaining. She was one of the lucky people who got a great paycheck and only had to work a few hours a week.

She rolled to the edge of the bed and hesitated before swinging her feet down to the soft carpeting. She was usually a morning person, but today she felt completely drained. Glancing over at the clock, she saw it was only 8:00. Usually she would go on a run in the mornings before a show, but she decided to break her ritual. It wasn't like anything else was going according to plan.

The blond diva walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She stared into the mirror as she patted her face dry. She hardly recognized herself. Was it only a few weeks before she hadn't a care in the world? It seemed like so much longer then that. It was like her whole life had been flipped upside down, all because of _him_.

She shook her head in disgust. She should be focusing on her job and possibly finding a guy she could actually get serious with. He didn't fit into any of her plans. But somehow, she found her thoughts wandering back to him time and time again. He was all wrong for her. She liked polite and down to earth guys. He was the most arrogant guy she had ever met who had his head stuck so far up his ass she was sure it would have to be surgically removed.

Stacy heaved a troubled sigh as she pulled on a small sweater. Maybe a light breakfast would clear her mind. She headed down to the nearly empty cafeteria.

"Orange juice and white toast with grape jam," she ordered. She handed back the menu without opening it. This had been her pre-show breakfast for as long as she remembered, and today she felt some comfort in the familiarity. Her gaze wandered towards the window as she stared at a couple holding hands and laughing. She frowned at the sight. Her last boyfriend had broken up with her because he felt she wasn't "putting enough effort into the relationship." Which was absurd because Stacy was the one calling and going out of her way to see him. That had been almost a year ago. She hadn't even noticed how much she yearned to have someone truly care about her.

"Stacy! What are you doing here?"

Stacy's lips jerked up in an involuntary smile. His voice alone was enough to lighten any dark mood she was in.

"Well, I _am_ in a restaurant," she replied motioning for him to sit across from her.

"Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he observed playfully. He eyed her as she looked away to thank the waitress. She seemed different somehow. Her eyes were sad and her movements were slow, like something was weighing her down.

"What's up?"

"I'm just tired," she answered taking a small bite of her toast.

"Where did you go yesterday?" he asked taking her napkin and folding it over.

"I went out to a club with the girls but I came home early because I felt kinda sick."

Greg looked up to find her staring at her plate like it was about to jump at her. He didn't think she was telling the truth. "What was wrong?"

Stacy shrugged. "My stomach hurt."

"Anything else?"

"No," answered Stacy softly. She avoided his gaze as he looked up her. There was definitely something wrong.

"You look sad."

"I'm fine," said Stacy in a voice that plainly stated she wanted to drop the subject. But Greg couldn't stand seeing her acting like this. He wished he could read her mind and take away whatever problems she had.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again.

"I said I'm fine," snapped Stacy. She bit her lip as a hurt expression come over his face. She was about to open her mouth to apologize when she was interrupted.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here. I wasn't aware you two actually associated outside of work."

Stacy felt herself growing red. She glared at him, trying to keep any emotion from her face.

"Do you mind?" she asked coolly.

"Well it doesn't look like you were doing anything special," Randy pointed out. "Greg's busy making a paper airplane and you're staring out the window."

"What she means is leave us alone," said Greg.

Randy turned to Greg, a disdainful look on his face. "I don't remember talking to you."

"Well I'm talking to you," retorted Greg standing up and facing him.

Stacy's eyes widened. She knew neither of them had a very mild temper and it was just a matter of time before one of them snapped.

"You might play a superhero on TV Greg, but you're nothing outside the ring." Stacy clenched her teeth as she forced herself to fight the overwhelming urge to smack him across the face. Instead, she stepped in between the two men and turned to Greg, putting her hands on his shoulders.

"Let's just go," she pleaded, attempting to look into his eyes. She knew as soon as their eyes connected he would give in. She had been told many times that her eyes were a powerful tool, and she wasn't afraid to use them to her advantage.

"Listen to your little girlfriend, you don't wanna get embarrassed in front of these people," Randy smirked as Greg attempted to lunge at him but stopped short when Stacy pushed her body against his to stop him.

"Greg! Don't listen to this jackass, let's just go." Stacy shot Randy a dirty look as Greg finally turned his back and began walking away. Stacy started to follow him but Randy grabbed her arm roughly.

"So I'm a jackass now?"

"You've always been a jackass," shot back the leggy blond. She pulled her arm away only to feel him pinch her ass.

"Couldn't resist," Randy smiled as he put his hands up innocently. Stacy sent a disgusted look at him before turning away and walking out. She never caught the look of pure fury that appeared on the face of the Legend Killer.

(X X X)

The handsome superstar let out a long breath as he toyed with the fork on his right. It clattered loudly on his plate as he dropped it, and the blonde who had been shooting him glances the minute he sat down, smiled at him. He returned her smile but looked out away quickly. He had enough trouble with women.

He rested his head on his hands as he thought back to the events that had taken place last night. He could still remember how soft her skin felt. The look in her eyes had made him want to spend the whole night with her, but he had soonsnapped out of it. John Cena was many things, but he was not a cheater. After knowing what it felt like to be cheated on, John had vowed never to cheat.

But Christy was making it hard for him to keep his promise. While Torrie was a beautiful girl, she had an attitude that made it hard to take her seriously. She whined to get what she wanted, and then expected to be treated like royalty. But there was something different about Christy. John could tell immediately she felt a need to prove herself. She was reserved most of the time, but he was sure she would never back down from him or anyone else.

Taking a deep gulp of water, he drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. He didn't know what to do now. Should he confront her? Or should he lay low until she was ready to come talk to him? If she ever _was_ ready to talk to him. The look she had given him when she told him to get out was still very vivid in his mind.

"Penny for your thoughts."

John looked up to see Dawn Marie smiling at him.

"Hey Dawn. Have a seat," he said kicking the chair across from him, so she could sit down.

Dawn chuckled as she took the seat he so graciously offered her. "What a gentleman," she remarked.

"Did you have a fun time yesterday?" asked John.

Dawn nodded. "I don't even know Shelton that well and he's already my favorite person. He's a real funny guy."

"You're not replacing me with him are you?" teased John.

"Of course not. No on can replace your perverted sense of humor."

John nodded absently, not knowing what else to say. He was hoping she wouldn't ask him about what had happened, but he knew Dawn was always very curious. Sure enough, the next words that came out of her mouth were concerning Christy.

"She got to her room okay," shrugged John.

Dawn looked at him curiously. He seemed uncomfortable. And she couldn't imagine why. "Did she say anything embarrassing?"

John felt a blush creep onto his cheeks. She couldn't possibly know what happened. Unless Christy had told her…

"Why? Did she say anything?" asked John trying to act cool.

"No, but you know sometimes drunk people spill their deepest darkest secrets," joked Dawn. She did more then that, thought John wryly. He only shook his head in response.

"I wonder if it had anything to do with that call," muttered Dawn to herself. However, John heard and raised his brows in question.

"What call?"

Dawn looked away quickly. "I probably shouldn't have said anything," she answered hastily.

"Uh-uh. Now you're gonna tell me what you talkin' about," said John firmly.

Dawn looked around for a distraction, but finding none, she gave up. John was a nice guy; he wouldn't tell anyone would he?

"I heard her talking on her phone before we left for the club. She thought I was still in the other room, so I don't think she knows. It might have been her mom," she added softly.

"What does this have to do with anything?" questioned John confused.

"Christy and her mom don't have a good relationship," explained Dawn. "Stacy told me that when they went out one time, Christy let everything out. She was drunk, Stacy was trying to take care of her, and she just broke down. She said her mom told her everyday that she was a slut for being in this business. And she said she knew everyone hated her because of the contest. I guess the only way she deals with it is by drinking. I wish there was something I could do, but I don't want to make her think I'm intruding."

John stared at the brunette sitting across from him, letting everything she had told him sink in. He couldn't imagine how it must feel to have his family not supporting what he did. All his family was proud of what he did, and they always encouraged him in any way. It was hard enough trying to please the fans, but not having anyone to turn to must have been unbearable.

"You're not gonna tell anyone are you?"

"Naw, I won't tell nobody," responded John, snapping out of his thoughts.

"Good, I mean, I know I wouldn't want everyone to know what a bitch my mom is. You should hear some of the things she says to her! Stacy told me that Christy told her that her mom always tells her what a disappointment she is and how she always compares her to her sisters. And the only reason she ever calls her is to make her feel like crap and ask for money!" Dawn exclaimed.

John smiled wryly. For such a small person, Dawn got excited over almost everything. She looked like she was almost ready to jump out of her seat right now.

"I guess all you can do is offer her your friendship and wait until she's ready to talk about it," suggested John.

Dawn nodded her head slowly. "You know,_you_ can make her feel better too."

"How?" asked John. He highly doubted Christy wanted anything to do with him.

"Well, she likes you," admitted Dawn cautiously. Christy had told her she had a small crush on John, but she had insisted it was no big deal. Dawn, however, knew by the way Christy's eyes twinkled that it was no small crush.

"Who _doesn't_ like me?" kidded John.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Anyways, you could try talking to her or just hang out. If Torrie doesn't mind that is," she added.

John face fell in annoyance. Why did everyone think Torrie had complete control of his life?

"I really don't care if Torrie doesn't want me to hang out with someone," he said, trying to hide his anger. "I can chill with whoever I want."

Dawn raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Is that why she's always yelling at you when you go to a club?" She laughed silently as John glared at her. "I know how Torrie can be John," she consoled. She checked her watch and pushed away from the table. "I hate to leave on a sour note, but I promised Bob I would help him shop for an anniversary present for his wife."

John chuckled in amusement. "The big Alabama Slamma in a chick store?"

Dawn giggled at the image of the hardcore wrestler following her around like a lost puppy while she suggested presents. "Don't tease him; he's sweet for even remembering."

John nodded his goodbye as she left. Sighing, he looked down at half eaten meal. He usually ate everything in sight, but today his appetite had been pushed aside. He would talk to Christy, he decided. She deserved to feel like someone was on her side. And who better than someone who was in the same business?

(X X X)

"Get the _fuck_ out!"

"But-"

"Are you deaf? I'm _done_. I'll see you around."

Her lower lip began to quiver at his harsh tone. The young superstar sighed and walked over to her. The last thing he wanted to deal with was a blubbering woman.

"Listen sweetie," Randy began, "I don't mean we won't do this again soon. I just want my space right now," he crooned as he cupped her chin in his hand to force her to meet his eyes.

Maria glanced at his eyes but quickly looked away. He scared her sometimes. She nodded her head and closed her eyes as he gave her a rough kiss.

"Don't forget your sweater," called Randy as she was about to walk out the door. She turned around and reached for it, but he didn't let go.

"Be ready again tomorrow," commanded Randy. Maria nodded quickly, suddenly eager to get out. She didn't know why she kept coming back to him if she knew she would never be able to get serious with him. But he was the only man who could give her exactly what her body craved. The fact that he dictated their sexual encounters and kicked her out within seconds of being finished were unimportant compared to how good he could make her feel while he was using her. And she was well aware that she was being used by him. But while she was with him, she pushed that fact aside.

Randy watched the sway of her hips as she closed the door. He walked to the bathroom to prepare for the RAW shooting. It was only a few hours away and he had to do a skit before his match.

As he glanced around the cluttered bathroom, his gaze shifted to the mirror. He was angry. Maria had sensed that and she had gotten away quickly. He knew why. The little meeting that had taken place in the cafeteria had done nothing to cool his temper. He was angry from the night before. At the blatant way she had said _no_ to him. Her eyes were filled with pity, and Randy felt furious. There was no reason for _anyone_ to pity him. Much less a woman he had already gotten with. He was Randy Orton. Every man would kill to be him and every woman would kill to be with him. He was young, handsome, and famous. On top of that, he had the best-looking woman climbing over each other for a chance to fuck him.

So why did none of this matter? Randy balled his hand into a fist and swung it at the wall. It left a small crack, but he didn't seem to notice the sharp throbbing on his knuckles. He had to prove it to her. He had to prove that he was better. He had to make her believe that she was just another woman he had slept with. Because if she went around with the idea that she had gotten the better of him, his reputation would be ruined. And he couldn't have that. The fact that Stacy was one of the best fucks he had ever had was just an added bonus. He would enjoy himself while he was proving her wrong.

And he would do it tonight.

(X X X)

Gregory Helms refused to meet the look the leggy diva was shooting his way. He cursed his short temper. While he was supposed to be a lovable character who was a role model, he never could control his anger.

"You should have just ignored him."

"Somebody has to put him in his place," he protested.

Stacy sighed. Of course she agreed. Randy needed to be put in his place so he would stop walking around like he was God's gift to women and wrestling. But she didn't want Greg to get hurt. And after the match they had, Stacy knew how vicious Randy could be when his pride was on the line.

"Still Greg, I don't want you to get hurt," she insisted. She wanted to keep Randy and Greg away from each other. So far, she hadn't gotten any hint that Randy had told anyone about what happened, but she didn't want to risk Greg finding out.

"You don't think I can't take him on?" asked Greg.

"I'm not saying that. I just meant he hurt you bad last time you two fought and I don't-"

"So you _are_ saying you don't think I can beat him," fumed Greg.

"Stop putting words in my mouth," said Stacy glaring at him. She had had a crappy morning and fighting with the one person who always cheered her up was only making it worse.

"I'm not putting anything in your mouth, Stace. You just said you think that jackass is stronger then me. Some partner you are," said Greg coldly. His jaw clenched as Stacy rolled her eyes. He was seen as a joke to the fans and to everyone else backstage. He thought she was the one person who truly believed he had talent, but apparently, she didn't think it was enough.

"Shut up Greg! If you would just listen-"

"I don't have to listen to anything! I get the fact that everyone looks at me like I have no skills. I thought you were different-"

"I _do_ think you have talent," Stacy insisted, growing exasperated. "I can't worry about my friend?"

"I don't want to be your friend Stacy."

Stacy's mouth dropped open at his words. She regained her composure, and along with it, arush of anger.

"You're acting like a little kid, Greg! It's not my fault you're insecure about yourself. The only thing I've done is support you and Rosey and this is how you thank me?"

"So now I'm an insecure, talent-less nobody?" asked Greg loudly.

"No!" Stacy felt her hands shaking in anger. She didn't know what had gotten into him, but it was getting old fast. "You're the one that doesn't want to be my friend just because I worry about you. I don't-"

"I want to be more then your friend."

Stacy stopped and stared at Greg as his eyes bore into her own. They were shining with passion and she thought she had imagined what she had just heard.

"What did you say?" she asked finally, her voice a whisper.

Greg looked at her sadly. He didn't care about what had just happened. But it hurt so bad that she had no idea of why he was really acting like this. He was tired of keeping everything quiet.

"I said I wanna be more then your friend," he repeated. He continued as she said nothing. "I like you so much Stacy. But I was afraid to tell you. Do you know how hard it's been for me to keep my mouth shut? Do you know how much I wanted to tear Randy's head off when he kissed you after our match? I don't care about anyone else, Stace. I care about you."

Stacy felt like bursting into tears. One of her best friends had just admitted his feelings. She knew it must have been hard for him. Greg had had very painful relationships in the past.

"I never knew," she said hoarsely.

"I'm good at keeping secrets," said Greg lowly.

Stacy looked away as a tear rolled down her cheek. This was too much. First, she had to worry about Randy and everyone finding out. Now, she had to worry about Greg. If he ever found out, he would never speak to her again. Stacy glanced up at Greg, whose eyes had never left her face. She loved him so much, Stacy realized.

As a friend.

"I'm sorry Greg, but I don't know if I like you the same way," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Greg shut his eyes as he heard her words. So his big confession had done nothing. It had made things worse, he corrected. Now things were going to be so awkward. If he had only kept his mouth shut, thought Greg angrily. She would never have known, but at least he could have entertained the notion that one day she would grow feelings for him.

"I have to go," said Stacy suddenly. She needed to get away, the room felt like it was pressing down on her. She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped out into the hallway. How was she going to face him tonight? Would they ever be able to talk anymore? Stacy's shoulders slumped at the thought of losing him as a friend. He was always there for her and had listened to all her problems without ever making any judgments.

He can never know about Randy, thought Stacy. It would devastate him if he knew that she had hadsex with him. All while he had harbored feelings for her. He would hate her, Stacy realized. Everyone would hate her. After everything Randy had done to the girls, no one would ever talk to her again.

Stacy let out a sob. How had her life taken such a horrible turn? She was in danger of losing her friends and she didn't know what she could do to stop it. She held her head in her hands as if trying to block everything out. But it was hopeless. Sooner or later, she had to face him.

(X X X)

Christy Hemme let her head fall back as the hot water rinsed away the sweet smelling foam. She had always loved the soft scent of milk and honey. She ran her hands down her arms slowly to let the body wash drop down and disappear into the drain. When she had been a little girl, she had been terrified of being sucked into the dark hole. But her mother had always comforted her. How different things were now, thought Christy bitterly.

Christy snapped out of her thoughts as the water suddenly turned colder. How long had she been in the shower? She had always been able to relax while she was in the shower, and she supposed now she had big reason for staying long. She frowned as the memory of last night drifted into her mind. She had been drunk, but she remembered everything clearly. She remembered she had almost left with some guy and John had taken her back to her room. With embarrassment, she recalled what had happened after the doors had closed. She felt a deep resentment for John. True, he had a girlfriend and he had done the noble thing by refusing her, but she felt angry.

The small redhead took a towel and wiped her body dry, wrapping it around her afterwards. After rummaging in her bag, she found the lotion she was looking for. Smackdown was filming tomorrow, and the last thing she wanted to do was run into him. She hoped he wouldn't try to seek her out. What would she say? What would he think of her? It didn't matter how often she tried to be taken seriously, she always managed to screw everything up. It was a horrible feeling to know that she was the only one to blame for everyone thinking she was a slut. Maybe her mother was right, maybe Christy was just a disappointment. Her family hated her, her coworkers thought she was not to be taken seriously, and she wasn't happy. What was the point? thought Christy swallowing back her tears.

At that moment, she heard a loud knock. She sighed in frustration as she grabbed her clothes from the bed. She didn't want to face the world just yet. She wanted time to brood.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she mumbled, pulling a wife beater over her head. The knocking persisted and Christy barely had time to button her jeans as she wrenched the door open, ready to curse at whoever was on the other side.

The words stuck in her throat as she saw him.

He had on his usual attire of shorts and a t-shirt, with a backward baseball cap on his head. He was shifting nervously from foot to foot, looking everywhere except her eyes.

"What do you want?" the words came out colder then she had meant them and she tightened her hold on the doorknob.

"Can I come in?"

Christy nodded hesitantly, stepping aside to let him through. She held her breath as he brushed past her.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," responded Christy, crossing her arms across her chest. She was suddenly aware that she forgot to put on a bra in her haste to open the door.

John looked at the woman across from him. Her clothes hugged her body and her skin glowed from her recent shower. John yearned to take her into his arms, but he held back.

He took a deep breath as he began. He had thought of what to say before coming here, but all his preparations slipped his mind as she stood in front of him.

"If you wanna talk about last night, don't. I regret everything I did and I really don't wanna bring it up again." Christy couldn't help the edge in her voice. She was mad as hell that he had the nerve to come to her.

John's face fell as he listened to her. So she regretted everything? Drunk or sober, that was a blow to his ego.

"I aint come here to be insulted Christy. I just wanted to clear the air between us so it doesn't have to be all weird an' shit."

"I don't care if things are awkward between us, John. We don't _have_ to talk to each other," said Christy shrugging. She didn't know why she was acting so mean, but it gave her pleasure seeing the confused expression on his face.

"Why you gotta act like such a damn bitch?" asked John, his voice rising. He had come here to make peace, but it seemed like she was hell bent on making this as hard as she could for him.

"Is this your idea of clearing the air?" snorted Christy. "By calling me a bitch?"

"I call em like I see em," declared John.

"Then get out. I don't even know why I let you in; all you can do is make things worse, so just stop trying."

"Things wouldn't be do bad if you stopped actin like a lil brat," shot back John.

"I'm not a brat." She forced herself to keep her hands crossed. It would only prove his point if she started flailing her arms around. "Can you just go now?" She started to open the door, but he put his hand out to slam it back closed. "_Excuse me,_ I said get out."

John glared down at her. This wasn't going the way he had envisioned. He had wanted her to accept his apology and make everything cool again.

"I'm not leavin," he said firmly. "I don't know why you're bein so stupid about this, but we're gonna talk whether you want to or not."

Christy put her hands to his chest and pushed him away. He was too close. He did something to her every time he was around her and it scared her.

"Drinkin aint the way to deal with your problems," she heard him say.

"I don't have any problems," she snapped furiously. He couldn't possible know about her life, could he?

John shook his head. "I know about your mom. I don't think its right what she's doin but you gotta find a better way to deal with it." He had just broken his promise to Dawn that he wouldn't say anything, but he wouldn't tell her how he had found out. He didn't want to get Dawn in trouble.

"You know nothing about my life," said Christy, her voice heavy with emotion. She was mad that he knew. She had thought she had kept her secret well. How much else did he know? Christy paled at the thought of everyone in the locker room finding out.

"Nothing is wrong with my mom," she lied. "We have a good relationship and I would appreciate it if you would get the hell out of my business.

John shook his head at her denial. "I know it might be embarrassing, but you aint got nothing to-"

"Get out!" screamed Christy. She lunged at him with both hands and grabbed his shirt, attempting to push him out.

"What the fuck is wrong with you girl?" He threw her hands down and stood glaring at her. "You aint gotta take it out on me, I was just tryin to help."

"So you're Dr Phil now?" sneered Christy. "I want to be alone; I don't _need_ anyone's help."

"That's bullshit an you know it," said John. "If you can take such good care of yourself, then why were you tryin to fuck me an sum random guy in one night?"

A hurt look came over Christy's face. She felt as if he had just punched her in the stomach. "I wasn't trying to do anything," she said softly.

"Oh yea," said John sarcastically. "Is that why I had to drag you to the hotel and then push you off me?"

"Shut up!" exploded Christy. "You were a mistake! I'm sorry! I'll never touch you again. Just get out!" Without being able to stop them, tears trickled down her cheek. She had never been more ashamed in her life. She wished with all her being she could have taken last night back so it never happened.

John's expression softened as he saw her crying. He had never been able to handle a woman's tears. To know that he had caused them tore at his heart. He took a step towards her but she moved away.

"I do have a shitty family. Is that what you wanted to hear? But I don't need your help, or anyone else's. So just leave me alone!"

"Why don't you want me to help you?" asked John. He was trying to be sensitive, but it was hard when she kept shooting him down.

"Because I don't like you!"

John winced at her cold words. Maybe Dawn was wrong. Maybe Christy didn't have a crush on him. It didn't seem like she was fond of him at all by the look in her eyes.

Suddenly, the phone on the table beside John started to vibrate. Christy pushed past him to pick it up. He saw her eyes widen as she looked at the caller id. Sensing something was wrong, he took a step towards her.

"What's wrong?"

Christy tried to step around him, but he stopped her and snatched the phone away from her hands.

"Don't!" she called out. But it was too late. Before she could grab it back, he flipped it open.

"Hello?" asked John.

"Who is this? Where's my daughter?"

John put his hand out to stop Christy's attempts to take the phone. "Is this her mom?"

"Yes, this is her mother. Who the hell are you? Let me talk to my daughter this instant. I cant believe she's screwing around again."

John listened to the voice on the other line, his anger mounting. This woman made Christy like this. This woman made her life a living hell. He felt a deep resentment for the way she had managed to get inside Christy and make her feel insecure.

"Listen lady, I'm not sleeping with your daughter, and neither is anyone else. If you would stop accusin her of being a slut, then maybe you could see that the only thing she tries to do is make you happy."

"Who are you to tell me how to talk to my daughter? Let me speak to her right now. Did she put you up to this?"

"She didn't put me up to anythin, I don't think its right for a mom to be such a bitch to her own daughter," snapped John. He was hardly aware of Christy anymore, who was standing back feeling like her heart was about to pound of her chest. She knew she would pay dearly for this, but John seemed intent on talking to her mom. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she continued to listen to the heated conversation.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion on anything; now let me talk to my daughter!"

"Why? So you can make her feel like shit? What kind of fucken mother are you? You go around callin your own daughter a slut and telling her she aint good enough. How do you think all that makes her feel?"

"You have no right to be saying all these things! She always exaggerated everything, I've done nothing but try to give her other options for her life, and she thanks me by spreading rumors about me?"

"You sound like a bitch to me," said John. "Maybe if you would stop tryin to change her life, you would have a chance to see that she loves what does. The only reason she's so unhappy is cuz of you."

"I don't have to listen to this anymore. You tell Christy that the next time I call her, she better be the one to answer the phone or else-"

"You aint gonna do shit lady. I know people like you and the only thing ya'll can do is run your mouth. So go run it somewhere else." He snapped the phone shut and slammed it on the table. He stood breathing heavily as he tried to restrain his anger. He had almost forgotten about Christy until he heard a muffled sob.

Turning around, he saw Christy's eyes brimming with tears and a scared look on her face.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered softly.

John's anger faded as he saw her. "I'm sorry," he managed to say.

"Why?" Christy repeated. She closed her eyes as a small drop managed to spill over. At once, she felt herself being engulfed in strong arms. She attempted to push him away but he held onto her, stroking her back and whispering soft words in her ear.

"Shhh, don't cry," soothed John. He hardly knew what to do. He wasn't exactly a sensitive guy, but seeing Christy like this made him want to take all her pain away.

"She's gonna kill me," cried Christy burying her face against his shoulder. His hands continued to stroke her lower back and despite her situation, she felt a shiver run up and down her entire body.

"No she wont," murmured John into her hair. She smelled like heaven. John had never been a fan of women wearing overpowering perfumes. He could just barely sense the alluring scent of something sweet. It was enough to make him want to put his lips to her skin and see if it tasted as good as it smelled.

"What am I going to do next time she calls? I feel horrible about this, John! I cant even imagine what she's thinking right now." Christy finally brought herself to wrap her arms gingerly around his midsection. She felt a safety with him that was a strange territory to her.

"I'll make you feel better," whispered John, leaning down so his breath was hot against her ear. He noted with satisfaction the tremble his actions had caused.

"John…" murmured Christy looking up at him in question. She was met with a pair of lips. The kiss was nothing like the night before. That had been filled with defiance and lust. The kiss he was giving her now was soft and light, almost like he wasn't kissing her at all. His hands left her back to cup her face tenderly. Christy heart swelled at his display of gentleness. She had never been with a guy who touched her as John was doing now.

"We cant do this," she finally managed to whisper as he broke the kiss. He ignored her and pulled her in for another kiss.

"I wanna make you feel better," she heard him whisper against her lips. She was hardly able to comprehend the words. She was off in her own world. When she was a little girl, Christy had often imagined the perfect kiss as being filled with love and emotion. So far, she had never felt that any kiss had come close to fulfilling her vision. Until now.

Christy gasped quietly as she felt John's hands on her bare stomach. Slowly, John inched his way up, taking her shirt along with him. He stopped as the shirt reached the swelling of her breasts. Pulling back, Christy saw a deep longing in his eyes. She closed her eyes, leaning in for another kiss. She copied him, and ran her hands under his shirt. She smiled at the way his muscles jumped under her fingertips. Instead of stopping as he had, she broke the kiss in order to pull the shirt over his head. He stood breathing raggedly as his chest rose and fell.

Without warning, his hands were around her waist again and he pulled her in for a kiss laced with passion. He traced the outline of her lips and she parted them willingly. His tongue ran along her mouth and he put his hands on the back of her shirt, tugging it off.

Christy stood in front of him, almost afraid of what he might think. She looked up shyly.

"You're beautiful." Christy blushed at the simple words. She had been told she was beautiful before. But never had she heard it sound sweeter. Before she could think of a response, John pulled her against him to place butterfly kisses along her jaw line. Christy smiled at the delicious feelings he was stirring inside of her.

At that moment, his lips closed around her nipple, making her bite her lip to keep the moan that was threatening to escape. She let out a sharp breath as he swirled his tongue, making her knees buckle. He pulled her tighter against him, supporting her with an arm around her waist. Christy was very aware of his erection pressing against her thigh. She took his head in her hands and pulled him to her lips. As soon as he gave her access, she began to suck slowly on his tongue. He groaned against her mouth as he pushed her against his body almost painfully. Christy enjoyed the firmness of his body against hers and pulled back as heran his fingers along the top of her jeans. His feather light touches were making her crazy with desire.

"We cant be doing this," she whispered as his hands came to front of her jeans to unbutton them.

"Yes we can," he mumbled back. He had barely heard her in his attempt to be slow. It was taking every ounce of strength not to rip her jeans off and take her right then and there. But that would have been selfish; this was about _her_, not him.

"Torrie might find out, John…and she'll tell everyone," murmured Christy as she felt him bring down the zipper. He flicked his tongue against her ear as he proceeded to run his hand lightly up her thigh. She shuddered as he finally made his way to her center. He had barely touched her and already she could feel herself losing control. It was a scary thing to lose control to someone she knew wasn't supposed to be here in the first place.

This thought caused Christy to open her eyes and put her hands on John's chest. He looked at her questioningly, not wishing to be stopped.

"No one will find out," he said, as if reading her mind.

"So we're just keeping this a secret?" asked Christy frowning. "You have a girlfriend, John. Only you can change that."

"You want me to break up with her?" asked John.

"John, we cant have sex if you still have feeling for Torrie. When I came to Smackdown I wanted no drama. I don't want to be a part of some love triangle," Christy replied, struggling to keep her voice low. She didn't think it was such a ludicrous request for him to break up with Torrie.

"I don't have feeling for Torrie anymore," insisted John.

"Then it wont be hard to break up with her." Christy turned her head away as he leaned down to kiss her.

"Fine, baby girl. I'll break up with her." John lowered his head to attempt to entice her with his kisses once again, but she shook her head.

"Break up with her first," said Christy in a firm voice.

John gave a frustrated sigh as he loosened his hold on her waist. "I hate ultimatums," he told her.

"It shouldn't be hard. You said you have no feelings for her anymore. And you cant be mad that I wont have sex with you while you have a girlfriend," pointed out Christy. She smiled as John rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I'll talk to Torrie later," he conceded.

"No, go now," commanded Christy, picking her shirt up and putting it on. She handed him his shirt and watched him as he put it on. When he tried to reach for her again, she stepped back and began pushing him out the door.

"One for the road?" asked John as she finally managed to push him out into the hall. Before she could answer, John wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. He ended it by licking her bottom lip and smiled as she swatted him lightly on the arm.

"Go!" He turned and blew her a last kiss before the elevator doors closed. Christy closed the door and leaned her back against it, feeling giddy. This was almost too good to be true. John was about to break up with Torrie and be with her. While it might raise a few eyebrows that he was hooking up with her right after his breakup, people wouldn't care so much because nobody really liked Torrie.

It seemed like things would finally go her way. She knew John cared about her for more then her looks. Who else would have stood up to her mother like he did? Who else would have comforted her? The red headed diva grinned at the though of finally having a boyfriend who cared about her. Maybe this time, she would feel happy.

(X X X)

Stacy Keibler almost jumped a foot in the air as she felt someone tap her shoulder.

"Stacy! Why are you so jumpy?" asked Trish, confused.

Stacy giggled uneasily. "I'm just a little nervous about our match tonight."

Trish raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Since when have you been so nervous about matches? You know Hurricane and Rosey can take care of themselves."

"I guess you're right," agreed Stacy. She didn't want to tell Trish about Hurricane. She didn't want to tell Trish about Randy. Stacy hated keeping so many secrets from her best friend, but it would be worse if she told her everything.

"I just wanted to know if you wanted a ride back to the hotel. I can wait around for you until your match is done," said Trish.

Stacy nodded. "Sure."

"All right. Well, I gotta go," she said. "My match is up next. I hope Vic remembers I'm still sore from yesterday. She almost killed me last week with that widow's peak!" The smaller blond rolled her eyes dramatically. "I don't wanna break a nail!"

Stacy smiled. "Good luck."

She sighed as she heard the door shut. She didn't know how long she could keep this up. The whole day she had been dreading coming here. When she got here, she kept dreading running into Greg or Randy. She shouldn't be scared of running into one of her best friends she thought sadly.

She hardly noticed when the door opened once again.

"Stacy."

Her eyes widened at the sound of his voice as she whipped around to face him.

"What are you doing here? This is the women's locker room, get out!"

Randy Orton chuckled in amusement at her reaction.

"No one will find out if you keep your voice down," he said.

"I wouldn't have to keep my voice down if you just left," she retorted.

Randy ignored her as his eyes ran down her outfit. She was already in costume for her match, except for her mask.

"Why don't we go into the showers?" he suggested.

"Are you serious? Why the hell would I go into the showers with _you_?" She crossed her arms as he reached to take her hand.

"Think about it, babe. If somebody walks in here and sees us talking, they're gonna assume stuff. Wouldn't you prefer no one know I was here?" He smirked as she realized he was right. She didn't want to risk anyone finding out she had anything to do with him.

"That's better," he murmured as she turned her back and began walking to the back. He watched her legs move as he licked his lips. Vince definetly knew what he was doing when he gave the final say on the outfits the women wore.

"What do you want?" asked Stacy as they rounded a corner, so they were hidden from sight. She gasped as Randy placed a hand on her stomach and pushed her against the wall.

"I want you."

Stacy grabbed his hand and pushed it off. She was already feeling uncomfortable being around him. The fact that he was so close only made her edgier.

"Well too bad," she snapped. She raised her arm to swat away his hand, which was making its way to her small top. Before she could push him away, his other hand shot up and pinned them over her head.

"Do you have any idea how fucken tired I am of you saying no?" he growled. His eyes were cold as they bore into her own. When she refused to meet his gaze, he grabbed her chin roughly to force her eyes up.

"Stop!" cried Stacy. She attempted to wriggle out of his grasp but stopped as she heard the locker room door open again. Her blood ran cold as she recognized the voices of Lita and Victoria.

"Shh," she heard him say. "If you move they'll hear. And what will they think when they find you in such a compromising position?"

Stacy bit her lip to keep from screaming at him. He was right of course. If she struggled, they would only come back to check it out. She couldn't imagine what she would say if the girls found her and Randy near the showers.

"I'm so glad Trish has a skit before our match," she heard Victoria said. "That old lady was driving twenty miles an hour! I cant be late again. Last time I was two minutes late they almost killed me."

Stacy pressed her lips together as Randy lowered his head and started to nibble on her neck.

"Don't," she pleaded. "I have a match later tonight."

"Shhh," murmured Randy as he raised his hand. He placed it on her breast and Stacy could feel herself getting warmer. She hated that she was reacting like this after all he was making her go through, but she couldn't maintain a cool demeanor while he was doing this to her.

"Don't trip; just flash Vince and he'll forgive you." Both girls laughed and Stacy found herself wishing they would leave so she could finally let out the moan she was holding in. She didn't know how much longer she could stay quiet. She could feel her nipple harden as he rubbed her over her clothes.

"Vic, you look fine! Just worry about kicking ass tonight. Trish is so pumped because of Dave, you'll need some extra energy too. Want me to get Romeo?"

Stacy was hardly aware of their laughter as they continued talking. All she knew was that she was on the verge of exploding. She muffled a gasp as Randy pinched her nipple through the fabric. She looked up at him to see him smirking at her. She had to do something. If he kept this up she would scream and they would get caught.

She needed a distraction. Almost without thinking, Stacy reached down and grabbed the large bulge protruding from Randy's pants. She grinned in satisfaction as he jerked to her touch. He wasn't the only one who knew what he was doing.

"I knew you'de come around," he whispered into her ear. Stacy felt a surge of anger at his cocky words. She was tired of him thinking he could have any girl he wanted. And she was tired of giving him a reason for thinking like this. She raised herself on her tiptoes and capturd his lips in a harsh kiss. Her own lips throbbed with the force but she ignored it. Just as he was about to pull back, she grabbed the back of his head and pushed his lips harder against her own. She worked her way to his lower lip and bit it hard.

The young superstar's eyes snapped open in surprise as he felt her bite his lip. He was no stranger to the sensation, but Stacy bit him hard enough to make it hurt. Strangely enough, he had never found himself getting hornier. Her aggressiveness was new to him, he had always been the one who was rough. But Stacy was taking no pity on him as she slipped her hand between them and grabbed him again. He finally broke the kiss, attempting to regain his breath. He winced as he felt her grip him tighter. She ran her hand up and down, the fabric of his pants making it painful. But he hesitated to stop her. There was pleasure in pain, and Stacy was giving him both in large amounts.

Stacy undid his pants and let them fall around his feet. He was wearing boxers and Stacy gripped him through them. She was enjoying this. Finally, she heard the door slam shut as the other two divas walked out.

"Damn baby," Randy breathed. He leaned his arm on the wall beside her to maintain his balance. His forehead was pressed against hers andStacy could feel his hot breath. Despite her feelings of animosity for him, Stacy wanted to continue what they were doing. But she couldn't. She removed her hand and leaned back against the wall. She smiledcoyly as Randy glared at her.

"Finish what you started," he commanded. Stacy shook her head. The look in his eyes was scaring her, but it wasn't like Stacy hadn't been around abusive men before. At this point, she hardly cared what he did to her. The only thing she cared about was the priceless look on his face.

"I wonder how everyone would like to hear about Randy Orton beggin poor lil me for sex," said Stacy. She looked up at him innocently. It was all a bluff. She would never tell anyone about this, but she couldn't help the impish desire to taunt him.

"I wonder how everyone would like to hear about Stacy Keibler giving me a hand job in the womens locker room while Lita and Victoria where here," he returned. He smiled triumphantly as he saw a flash of fear in her eyes.

"You wouldn't tell anyone," she said. Deep down, she was scared he would tell someone. But she couldn't let him know. He would pick up on her uncertainties and go after her like a shark after blood.

Too late. Randy sensed her apprehensivness and knew she was at his will. "I might have told some people about our romp in the steam room," he said acting like he didn't remember.

"You didn't," said Stacy, trying to hide the fear in her voice.

"How would you know? And if I didn't, I could just tell them tonight. Maybe if I have time I'll tell them about today too." Randy smirked at her horrified expression.

"Don't tell anyone," said Stacy, trying to keep the desperation at bay. He couldn't tell anyone. Nobody could know about her and him. She had said many times she hated him and the way he treated women. She couldn't imagine what she would do if they knew.

"I can tell whoever I want," retorted Randy, an idea forming in his mind. He started to walk away, but as he expected, he felt Stacy pulling him back.

"Look, I really don't want you to tell anyone. Please," she said lowly. She didn't want to ask him for any favors, but he held a lot of power, as much as she hated to admit it.

"What will you do for me?" he asked. He made sure to let her catch him looking at her lustfully.

Stacy's stomach turned as she saw the way he was looking at her. "I don't know. What do you want?"

"I already told you what I want," replied Randy. He stared into her eyes. "I want you."

Stacy shook her head fervently. "You're disgusting," she spat.

"I wouldn't be talking like that sweetheart," reprimanded Randy. "Not if you want me to keep my mouth shut."

"I hate you," said Stay angrily. She could find no other way to describe what she was feeling for him. She wanted to punch him in the face to make his stupid smirk disappear. She wanted to yell every bad word she knew at him. But she couldn't. Not if she wanted him to stay quiet.

"Liking me has nothing to do with anything," said Randy cooly. "In fact, things can be hotter if emotions are high. Don't you agree?" he asked stroking her cheek.

Stacy slapped his hand away and he shook his head "Tsk, tsk, Stacy. You really do need to learn to control that temper."

"Are you going to tell anyone?" asked Stacy again. She needed to know he wasn't going to say anything or else she was going to be paranoid the rest of the night. She would probably be paranoid the rest of her life, but maybe if she got him to promise her something, she would feel better.

"I wont if you do what I say," he answered. He tensed as he watched her think it over.

"If I do, then you have to promise you wont say _anything_ to anyone," stressed Stacy.

"You have my word baby. As long as you're a good little girl, things will run smoothly."

Stacy closed her eyes. What was the other option? Say no and have him blab about it to everyone? She didn't think she could live with everyone looking at her like she was just another one of Randy's whores. She would never be able to face Trish. Or Greg.

"Fine," she said finally. She had just guarenteed he would never say anything, but she had a horrible sinking as the words left her mouth.

Randy let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't even noticed he was holding his breath waiting for her response. But she was his. With that one word, Stacy Keibler had promised herself to him. And there was no doubt in his mind that he would find ways to take full advantage of her inability to say no to him.

(X X X)

Torrie Wilson laughed as she hid against the wall. This was great. This was amazing. This was…

"Perfect." She could hardly keep herself from grinning from ear to ear.

She could not have picked a more perfect time to decide to go up to the gym the hotel offered. She could not have picked a better time to go around the corner. She could not have picked a better way to make sure she would get what she wanted.

"That idiot," she said to herself. Any other girlfriend might have been devastated she had just seen her boyfriend kissing someone she worked with, but Torrie Wilson was not like any other girlfriend. She could care less what John did as long as it didn't make her look bad. She had just been presented with a golden opportunity, and she was going to take full advantage.

She had to hand it to John, she had never thought him capable of cheating. Although he was obviously new at it. If he had been doing it as long as she had, he wouldn't have gotten caught. But this was good. Torrie knew John had a big heart. He liked to act tough, but with women he was completely different. She knew he hated to see women cry. She had used this knowledge many times. To get him to take her to expensive dinners, to buy her a necklace, and to get her slots on Smackdown.

But this was much bigger. She knew he would feel bad about what he had just done. She also knew what she had to do.

She smiled as she started walking to the gym again. The last thing John was going to do was break up with her to go out with that slut.

She would make sure of that.

Thank you all, once again, 4 the reviews! It really makes me happy and encouraged 2 write when I know that there are actually ppl out there who like what I'm doing :) **CENASGRL**- lol, patience... If I let everythin happen in 1 chap, I wont kno wat 2 write 4 the nxt! Thank u 4 the review, n don't wry, you'll get wat u want ;) **REEMA**- _Of course, _John wants Christy, but we all kno how stupid guys can be. **SOULLESSLY COLD**- I find myself liking writing the times when Stacy turns down Randy. Its so much fun 2 leave ppl wanting more. **RKOSMKJNH**- Yay! I was getting ansty jus keeping this story on my comp n not bein able to post it. Thanx 4 the review! **G-UNIT** **GIRL**- I'm so glad u like the story, thanx 4 the review. **FIDELITAS**- I luv long reviews, lol. And u definetly kno how 2 summarize everything very well n accurately. I went 2 the WWE website n it said Torrie was only takin a break. Even tho I don't write about her in a favorable light, I dont want her 2 leave! She's a real convincing heel n she plays it very well.

I'm really happy 2 actually have ppl who like n look forward 2 what I write, so thanx again! lol Review n leave sum feedback or criticism! It really helps me 2 figure out wat the hell ima write next :)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE. 

**This chap is a shorty. I was gonna add more at the end but it seemed out of place, so I scraped the idea. Enjoy : )**

The long legged diva stared out of the frosted window bitterly. It was amazing how the weather could take such a drastic turn in just a few hours. By the time she had gone outside, there was almost a foot of snow. Any other time she would have enjoyed the soft flakes falling from the sky, but not today. She scowled as she pulled her jean jacket tighter around herself. The curse of having long legs was that it was practically mandatory she wear short skirts.

She glanced at the driver. He seemed pretty damn cozy. He hardly seemed to notice she was there.

Finally, Stacy couldn't take it any more. She reached over to turn up the heat, but was stopped short as he grabbed her hand.

"I'm cold!" she complained.

"I really don't care sweetheart. As long as I'm warm and toasty, I'm not turning up the heat," he responded.

Stacy sat back in a huff. Any other decent guy would have offered her his jacket. Or at least let her turn up the heater. But that showed just how different Randy was.

Stacy rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm herself.

"The snow's pretty nice," Randy murmured suddenly.

Stacy rolled her eyes. If she didn't know any better, she would think he was trying to strike up a conversation.

"It's also cold," she retorted.

Randy raised an eyebrow in amusement. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her long legs crossed. Her short skirt hardly left anything to the imagination, but that was just fine with him. Randy felt something stir within him as he imagined lifting the skirt just a little higher.

"I've always wanted to do it in the snow."

"And get hypothermia?" asked Stacy sarcastically.

"There's nothing warmer then body heat," returned Randy smirking. Looking over his shoulder at the deserted road, he pulled to the side and killed the engine. They sat in silence for a few minutes until he spoke again.

"Get out."

Stacy's eyes widened. Was he really serious? She was already cold enough inside the car; she didn't want to find out how cold she could be outside.

"Why?"

Randy sighed. "Because I said so, babe."

"Well, that's not a good enough reason for me to freeze to death," argued Stacy.

Randy chuckled. "Ya know, you agreed to do whatever I said. Did you change your mind?"

Stacy lowered her eyes. "Fine," she mumbled. She opened the car door and slammed it shut. Shivering, she looked towards the direction of the hotel. The full moon illuminated the long road, making it seem like it went on forever.

Randy stepped out of the car slowly. He was in no rush. The snow crunched under his feet as he made his way to the front of the car.

"Come here," he called. He tapped his fingers on the hood impatiently as she made her way to him. She stopped, standing in front of him nervously. Randy leaned back against the car and motioned for her to come closer. She hesitated and looked around as if wanting to escape. But there were no cars and they were still far from the hotel.

Randy let out a deep breath as she stepped nearer. He could already feel himself getting warmer. He ran his hands up and down her arms, although not to warm her. He simply wanted to touch her.

Stacy shivered. She was still cold, but his hands were warming her considerably.

"If you cared about me being warm we wouldn't be out here," she pointed out.

"I _don't_ care," he replied casually.

"Then why are you touching me?" asked Stacy, jerking away from him. She stood back glaring at him. His eyes ran down her body lazily and he smirked.

"I like touching you." Before she had a chance to protest, Stacy found herself in his arms. As much as she hated to admit it, the low temperature was the furthest thing from her mind.

"Sooner or later, you're gonna have to give in to what your body wants," Randy murmured against her. Stacy trembled at his sensual tone.

"I don't want you," she managed to say.

Randy gave a throaty chuckle, his breath tickling her ear. He reached down and slipped his cold fingers in between her warm thighs. Stacy stifled a gasp from his cold touch. Before she could move away, Stacy felt his fingers rubbing against the thin fabric of her panties.

"Lying will get you nowhere with me sweetie," he said. Stacy felt herself blush. Why did she allow herself to be controlled by her desire? She wanted to move away, but his gaze kept her rooted to the spot.

She was torn from her thoughts as Randy continued to rub her. He stopped as he hooked his finger into her panties and slid them down her long legs. She really was beautiful. He had never taken the time to study a girl's face when he got with them. He usually did what he needed to do and kicked them out. But for some reason, under the pale light of the moon, he felt like he was seeing Stacy Keibler for the first time.

Without warning, he wrapped his hand around her neck and brought her lips to his. They were cold and Randy almost felt sorry for bringing her out here. He dismissed his thoughts as he began to work his way down her neck. He would warm her soon enough.

Stacy couldn't help the moan escaping from her lips. He was doing wonderful things to her. She gasped as he bit her lobe. He ran his tongue along the outline of her ear and gripped her tighter against him. His hands ran up and down her ass and thighs, making her feel like a fire was spreading from his fingertips. How could her mind and body be so contrasting? She disliked him so much as a person, but her body wanted him as she had never wanted any other man.

Randy lifted his mouth off her to groan in pleasure as she moved against him. It almost seemed like her body was seeking his for warmth. He couldn't blame her. It had suddenly gotten much colder, but he was hardly aware of the biting air. Randy turned her so she was sitting on the hood of the car.

Stacy flinched at the cold metal underneath her. Her short skirt did nothing to prevent the cold from getting through. Randy pushed her knees open and settled into the cradle of her thighs.

"Lie down," he commanded.

"It's too cold!" protested Stacy. She gasped in surprise as he brought his hand to her stomach, gently pushing her back.

"I said lie down," he repeated firmly. Hesitantly, Stacy lay down, arching her back to try to minimize contact with the cold metal. Randy smiled at this. It looked like she was offering herself to him. He lowered his lips to kiss her exposed stomach. He grinned as he felt her stiffen beneath him. He swirled his tongue below her bellybutton, his hands gripping her waist tightly. He continued to place kisses on her stomach, working his way down. Slowly, he lifted the skirt over her hips, exposing her to him. Randy placed his lips on her.

Stacy's fingers gripped his short hair desperately. She hardly knew where she was anymore. His tongue worked its way around her throbbing clitoris and she cried out at the torture he was putting her through. Her long legs hugged him tighter, not wanting him to stop. His tongue found its way inside her, and Stacy squeezed her eyes shut. His thumb was tracing slow, tantalizing circles on her and she was overwhelmed with the sensations. She pressed his head harder against her. She had an animalistic lust she had never experienced before. Her breath came in small puffs, hanging in the air before disappearing into the night. The only sounds heard on the silent road were her stifled moans, which only served to fuel Randy's desire.

Randy continued to tease her. He was growing harder with every stroke of his tongue. The way she was responding to him was enough to make him even more aggressive. He pinched her clit as he worked his tongue in deeper. He felt her legs tighten around him as she shuddered. Her hips bucked under him, needing, wanting more. He quickened his pace as her nails dug into the back of his head.

Finally, Randy felt her cum. He lifted his head to find her biting her lip. She trembled as she rode out the waves. As they began to disappear, Randy unbuckled his belt.

Stacy's eyes snapped open as she felt him lift her hips. Before she knew what he was doing, he thrust himself in. Tears welled up in her eyes at his sudden intrusion. She felt like she had been split in half. He had barely given her time to rest. The pain slowly gave way as she grew accustomed to him.

Randy groaned as he felt Stacy's warm walls around him. Was there anything that felt as good as being buried deep inside a woman? He felt her wrap her arms around him. He sensed that she was holding something back, but he ignored it as he felt himself nearing his peak. Sure enough, after a few more minutes, he felt himself release. He rested his head against her shoulder breathlessly.

Stacy closed her eyes as she rested her hands on his back. She knew he was bad for her. She knew he would never stop treating women like shit. She knew he was incapable of having feelings for anyone. But if she knew all these things, why did this feel so good? She sighed softly as she raised her lips to place a feather light kiss on his forehead.

Randy jerked as he felt her lips on his forehead. He pushed himself off and stood staring at her hurt expression before bending down to pull his pants back up.

"Come on," he said shortly. He waited until she slid off the hood to hand her her panties. She snatched them from him, with a glare. She pulled them on quickly and fixed her skirt.

"Can we go now?" she grumbled.

"Get rid of your fucken attitude and we'll be on our way," he shot back. "You just fucked me outside in the cold while I was wearing _this_," she motioned to her attire.

Randy raised an eyebrow as he looked her over. "You should have known better then to dress like that."

"You know they make me dress like this!" she exclaimed.

"Then its no ones fault now is it?" Randy shrugged.

"Let's go!" she exploded. "I'm tired of standing here freezing my ass off while you treat me like some random whore."

"Calm down, sweetheart. I hope you realize this kind of shit is gonna happen whenever I want it to. This is what you agreed to," he reminded her.

Stacy scowled. She couldn't deny that. But it didn't mean she had to like it. She stamped her feet, trying to keep warm. The sweat was cooling on her body, making her colder then ever.

"Fine, I'll fuck your sorry ass whenever you want me to," she snapped. She stumbled back as Randy stalked over to her. Her breath caught in her throat as he captured her lips in his own. He shoved his tongue inside and bit her lip so hard Stacy whimpered. She tried to pull away but he took hold of her head in both hands and kept her still. He ground his lips harder against hers until she could hardly breathe.

Suddenly, he let her go and Stacy fell back against the car. She stared at him, scared. He looked like he was ready to kill. She shivered once again. Although this time, it wasn't from the cold.

"Who's sorry now?"

Stacy closed her eyes against his harsh words. So she was right, she was nothing but a random whore to him. She swallowed over the painful lump in her throat. She refused to give him the pleasure of seeing her cry.

Randy glowered at her thin frame. How had she been able to get under his skin so quickly? Over the years, he had made himself invulnerable to the things a scorned woman might say. But Stacy didn't act like any of the other ones. Instead of yelling about how insensitive he was, she almost made him feel like _she_ was the one doing him a favor.

He shook his head. That was impossible. Randy Orton didn't need anyone to do him any favors. He would just have to put her in her place.

(X X X)

Trish Stratus shut her eyes as shrill screams filled the room. Peeking out carefully, she saw the messy remains of a cheerleader displayed graphically on the screen.

"You sure know how to pick movies."

Trish smiled at the big man next to her. His face was expressionless, but she could see his fingers gripping the armrest tightly.

"It's ok," she cooed. She grasped his hand and held it in her much smaller one. He squeezed back as he shot her a smile. That damn smile. Trish restrained herself from jumping him right then and there. Did he have any idea what effect his smile had on her?

"I can't believe _you're_ the one comforting _me_," he pointed out laughing.

"What can I say? I'm a tough chick," said Trish. Her breath caught in her throat as he disentangled his fingers from hers and swung an arm around her shoulders. She tensed for a minute, but seeing that his eyes were focused on the TV screen, she rested her head against him. She settled comfortably into him and tried to ignore the intoxicating smell that seemed to surround him. She loved that he was going so slow with her. That he was being so gentle.At the same time, however,Trish would like nothing more then to bring out the aggressive side that was lurking behind his cool façade. He was said to be an animal in the ring. But Trish suspected it was nothing compared to how he could be behind closed doors.

Trish started as the masked killer suddenly appeared. She heard Dave chuckle and pull her closer. Trish took her eyes off the screen to bury her face into the soft material of his shirts. Did he ever _not_ wear suits? Trish smiled at this. She knew almost nothing about this man, yet the feeling she had when she was around him was one of complete security.

"Do you wear boxers or briefs?" she blurted out suddenly. She blushed a crimson red as soon as she realized what she had just said.

Dave sighed, as if thinking about it. "Well, to tell you the truth, whenever I get the chance, I go commando," he admitted. "But usually I wear boxers."

Trish's eyes widened at his response. Her eyes involuntarily flitted down.

"I have boxers on now," he said, as if reading her mind.

Trish giggled. "Oh…that's nice."

"What about you?" he asked glancing down at her. "What does Miss Stratus wear when she's just relaxing?"

Trish brought her feet up under her and shrugged. "I wear lingerie almost all the time. I mean, a girls gotta feel sexy whether she's wearing a hot dress or sweatpants right?"

Dave nodded. "A woman deserves to feel like she's wanted all the time."

Trish bit her lip as she stared at him. What was it about him that made it seem like everything he said was meant to take the panties off a woman? Was it his sensual tone? The way those cute lips moved whenever he spoke? The expression he got when he was thinking about something?

"Hey Dave, how many girls have you slept with?" He smiled before answering.

"Why do you want to know?"

She shrugged as she ran her nails lightly across his leg. She held back a giggle as he drew in a sharp breath.

"Just curious."

"Well, I guess if you count from the beginning of my sex life," he trailed off as he mentally ran over the people, "about five."

"Is that all?" asked Trish, surprised.

Dave chuckled. "I don't like sleeping around sweetheart. The women I sleep with are close to me. I refuse to have mediocre sex, and no sex can be mind-blowing if the emotional and mental connection aren't there."

Trish rested her hand on his knee. Had she ever heard a guy say anything as deep as that? "You're not like anyone I've ever met," she murmured, almost to herself.

"Should I take that as a compliment?" he asked.

"Oh yea," she assured. She fell silent as he began to move his hand up and down her arm. Despite the warmth he was providing, she felt gooseflesh arise on her skin. She shifted uncomfortably as she felt a jolt of desire run across her spine.

"Dave," she said trying to break the silence that promised to make her lose control.

"Yeah," he replied in a low voice.

Trish fought back a groan at the sound of his voice. This was getting out of hand. He wasn't even trying, and already she could feel a distinct wetness in her panties.

"I don't think we should be this close," she said breathlessly.

"Why not?" he asked nonchalantly. He didn't seem to notice that Trish's breath was now coming in shallow pants. This made her angry. Why should she be the only one who was feeling this way?

She raised herself up on her knees and swung a leg over him. She sat straddling his lap as she looked deeply into his dark eyes. Lowering her lips to his ear, she whispered huskily,

"Because I might do something I'll regret." Without another warning, she slipped her tongue in his ear. She grinned as she felt him shift under her.

"Trish," she heard him groan. She pulled back and looked at him innocently. She purposely rubbed against his package as she ran her fingers lightly on his exposed chest.

"Yes, Dave?"

"We cant take this too far," he uttered lowly. His fingers tightened on her waist to keep her still.

"We wont take this too far," she promised, cocking her head to the side. "As soon as you want to stop, we'll stop." Inside, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was scared to take things too far, but she was thankful _she_ wouldn't have to be the one who had to put a halt to this.

Dave nodded as he his hands found their way under her shirt. Trish arched her back as she felt his fingers across her back. Her mind grew clouded as she felt something warm and wet caress her neck. She gripped his head as he continued his journey from her jaw to her collarbone and back again, leaving a wet trail behind. None of this, however, compared to the wetness between her thighs. She moaned out loud as she felt his erection pressing against her. It was rubbing right where it shouldn't be. She cursed herself for promising such a thing to him. She wasn't sure if she was going to be able to keep her end of the bargain.

Dave growled in the back of his throat as she continued to move her hips on top of him. How was he ever going to be able to stop this? He dismissed the thought as he made his way to the top of her shirt. He would worry about that later. He hardened the tip of his tongue as he traced the hem of her shirt. Withdrawing a hand from her back, he slowly pulled down the straps of her thin shirt to find a bright pink bra covering her ample breasts.

"I'm guessing you're matching?" he whispered.

Trish expelled a deep breath. "I always match." She let her head fall back as she felt him dip his tongue in her cleavage. Her eyes rolled back as she felt his hot breath igniting a fire deep inside her. Before she knew what had happened, she found herself on her back. She looked up at the man above her. His eyes were filled longing.

His hands gripped her thighs to guide her legs around him. She lifted her hips to meet his as he took her hands and held them above her head. He held her hands easily in one as his other hand caressed her.

His fingers stroked her neck softly, placing a light trail of kisses afterwards. Trish moaned as she felt his fingers sliding down at a deliciously slow pace. She held her breath as he passed the top of her pants. Would he? Trish held back a disappointed sigh as he skipped over her altogether and ran his hand down the side of her thigh instead. She barely had time to catch her breath as he made his way back up. This time, he slid his finger underneath her pants. She struggled to break free from his hold, but he only held her tighter. His finger skimmed over her softly, leaving Trish in a state of euphoria. What would it feel like if he_ really _touched her? The lace of her panties did nothing to hide her excitement.

Dave clenched his teeth as he saw her expression turn into one of desperation as he barely touched her. She was wet. There was no denying that. He was hard. There was no denying that either. He let her hands go as he raised himself off her. If he went any farther, he wouldn't be able to stop. And as willing as she was right now, Trish wasn't ready for him.

"I don't want to, but we should stop."

Trish swallowed hard. He was right. They were going too fast. He said he didn't sleep with women he didn't know. And how well could they know each other after only two dates?

"You're right," she whispered, hoarsely. They both deserved more then just casual sex.

"So should I go?" Dave looked at the beautiful woman who seemed torn. He hated starting something and not finishing it. But it was for the best.

"I don't want you to."

Dave smiled at her softly. "Believe me sweetie, the last thing I want to do is leave."

Trish returned his smile. She raised herself up until she was kneeling by his side. She placed a gentle kiss on his temple. "But maybe you should."

Dave nodded. After a couple of seconds, he lifted himself up and took her hand. They walked to the door and looking at each other in the dim light. Carefully, Dave brought his hand up and brushed away a strand of hair. He cupped her face as he brought his lips to hers. Their tongues tangled against each other until Dave finally pulled back. His lips curved into that irresistible smile until Trish finally looked away.

"Good night." She raised herself on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent one last time. She wanted to remember everything about him as she fell asleep at night.

"Good night sweetheart." He gave her one last squeeze as she loosened her hold on him. He turned and opened the door. Taking one last look at her, Dave shut the door softly and sighed. He didn't want to leave her like this. But Trish wouldn't enjoy everything he had to offer until she could finally trust him. Until then, he was willing to wait.

(X X X)

John Cena shifted uncomfortably on the hard seat of the arena. He felt sorry for the fans. How could they stand to sit in these for more then a couple of minutes? He had come here to try to clear his thoughts, but no luck. His mind kept drifting back to what had happened last night. How he had been ready to break up with Torrie. But he had found the room empty and when she had finally returned, she had said something that put a halt to all his plans.

_FLASHBACK:_

_John had been sitting, waiting for her to come back, for about an hour now. As the minutes slowly ticked by, he grew more and more impatient until finally he heard the door open._

_"Where were you?" he asked. He stopped short as he saw Torrie's tear stained face. "What's wrong?"_

_Torrie shook her head, a sob escaping her. "John…" She fell into his arms, her shoulders shaking._

_John hugged her awkwardly. "What's wrong?"_

_"I was at the gym," she started shakily. "And my dad called and told me my mom was in the hospital." She buried her face in his shoulder again._

_"What happened?"_

_Torrie hugged him close as she continued to cry. "She-she fell down the stairs, and…well he didn't give me all the details but I'm just so worried!" she cried. She held her breath to see if he bought her story. He seemed to believe her because he was stroking her back and muttering soothing words in her ear._

_"Do you want me to tell them you cant make it tomorrow?" she heard him ask. Her head shot up. She wasn't going to miss any days for **him**. "No, I think I'll be ok. I just wish you wouldn't tell anyone. I don't want anyone to treat me all weird, you know?" John nodded._

_"I just need you by my side," she said softly. Her lips curled up in a smile as he hugged her again. What an idiot. Her eyes flashed as she remembered Christy. That bitch didn't know what she was in for. She raised her head and planted a light kiss on John's lips. Without waiting for him to respond, she began to tug his shirt over his head._

_John stepped back in surprise. "Are you sure about this?" he asked nervously._

_"I want you to make me feel better John," she said, taking a step towards him. "You're my boyfriend, and you're the only one who can do that."_

_John chewed his lip as he felt her run her hands down his chest to unbutton his shorts. Hadn't he just been in Christy's room trying to **her** feel better? He forced himself to focus on Torrie. She needed him right now. Christy would understand. Wouldn't she?_

_END FLASHBACK_

John let his head fall on his hands. He had screwed up. Big time. Not only had he not broken up with Torrie, he had had _sex_ with her. His head snapped up as he heard soft footsteps approaching him.

Christy smiled brightly as she caught sight of John. Reaching him, she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"So, what happened?"

"Nothin," muttered John quickly.

Christy's smile faltered. Something wasn't right. She would have thought he would be in a better mood. Or at least act like he was happy to see her.

"Did you break up with her?"

John sighed loudly. He looked away for a second and looked back at her. "No," he said almost inaudibly.

Christy felt like she had just been punched in the stomach. "No?" she repeated.

"That's what I said," said John. He felt a surge of anger. Who was she to be pressuring him? He barely even knew her. He had been with Torrie for almost four months now. He would break up with her when he was good and ready. One look at her face, however, softened John's anger.

"Her mom had a accident," he explained. "And she was real sad about it. I couldn't break up with her."

Christy nodded numbly. "Sure, I get that." She was lying through her teeth, of course. She knew it was selfish, but she wanted John for herself. The thought of waiting made her sick to her stomach. She got up quickly and started to walk away, but John reached out and took her arm.

"You understand don't you?" he asked anxiously.

Christy shook his hand off. Turning around to face him, she felt an overwhelming urge to punch the concerned look off his face. "Did you make her feel better?" she spat.

John's eyes widened in confusion. "Huh?"

"You heard me, John. I know how you like to make people feel better. Did you fuck her?" Christy clenched her fists tightly. Her eyes bore into his clear blue ones. His gaze lowered for a split second, but that was all Christy needed.

"So you did? Fine, John, I don't want to stand in your way. Comfort her all you want."

"What the hell is wrong with you girl? Her mother just had an accident and you want me to add another problem on her?" He clenched his jaw as he glared at her. He didn't think he needed an excuse for having sex with his girlfriend.

Christy scoffed in anger. "Well I'm not gonna be happy about this, John!" she exclaimed. "Do you want me to wait around until she feels better?"

John looked away as he tried to think of a response. That _was _what he wanted her to do. But it wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't be fair to Torrie, to have him dump her as soon as she started to feel better. It wouldn't be fair to Christy. To make her wait around while he was still with her.

"I don't know," he said finally. He looked at her. He could see the pain clearly in her eyes. "What you think?"

Christy sighed. Her heart was aching for him. She didn't know why he was affecting her this much. She didn't even like him that much a couple of days ago. What had changed?

"I don't think I can stand to watch you be with someone else," she admitted quietly.

John cringed at her reply. "But we can try. I mean, I wont sleep with her no more. And we could still chill as friends."

Christy nodded her head slowly, knowing full well how difficult it would be to be around him. Could she really stand back and watch while he was still with Torrie? Sharing a room and a bed?

He attempted a smile. "I swear I wont do nothing to her," he promised. He reached to take her into a hug, but Christy stepped back.

"I think it might be better if we just try to minimize all the touching."

She turned to walk away, trying to choke back the hopelessness swelling in her chest.

**REEMA:** Lol, a little stimulation never hurt anyone ;) **SUPER BRITTY:** Sry 4 makin u wait so long! Thank u so much 4 all ur luv. **RKOANDLEGS4EVER:** Aw, I'm glad u think the chaps r so good. And this is nothing compared 2 what's gonna come in the future. **RANDYSGURL:** Glad u think the story is good, I'll try my best! **ANIMEFREAKOFNATURE:** Glad u think its awesum! Thanx 4 the review. **ANGELINA MCMAHON:** I'm flattered u think I'm a good writer, I hope u liked the chap.

I had to get this chap up before watching Smackdown tonight. I would have been too depressed to do anything after that. Thank u all 4 takin the time 2 read.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE. 

I don't know about this story anymore; I love writing, I think I'd go crazy if I wasn't able to write, but when I first started this, I had a long story in mind, and now I think the desire to write this particular story has kinda fizzled out. As you can tell by the long time it took to get this chap out. But the last thing I'll do is leave it on some random chap. I don't think anyone deserves to be left on a permanent cliffhanger. It took a while, but I really hope every1 enjoys this chap :)

"Stop looking at me like that."

The small diva shook her head, sighing heavily. She looked around at the empty diner, only to see that the waitress who was supposed to be getting their food was standing outside smoking.

So much for good service, she thought wryly. As much as she tried to keep her eyes off the pretty blond seated across from her, her gaze was seemingly dragged back to her once again.

"Trish! Would you stop looking at me like that?"

Stacy Keibler's lips twisted into a slight scowl as she rested her elbows on the table and traced small circles on the dull gray design. She kept her eyes cast downward, as she pretended to be absorbed in what she was doing. Lately, she hadn't been able to look anyone in the eye and it was annoying the hell out of her. She dared a quick peek up at Trish, who had the same sad expression she had been wearing ever since they had sat down.

"Damn it Trish." She knew what was coming.

"Stace, there's something wrong with you."

Stacy cringed at the simple declaration. Of course there was something wrong with her. She had agreed to become a sex object to the biggest jerk in thewrestling business.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said instead.

Trish rolled her eyes at the blatant lie. She had known Stacy for years. She had been with her through the whole Test and Scott fiasco, where she would stay up for hours listening to Stacy cry. She had been with her through her parent's divorce, where Stacy would lash out at anyone who tried to talk to her. But there was something going on now and she was hurt that Stacy wasn't telling her.

"You're lying."

Stacy craned her neck to look for the waitress.

"Don't bother. She's outside smoking and she's not gonna save you."

"I don't need anyone to save me," grumbled Stacy, slumping down in her seat like a small child. She clasped her hands together as she looked over Trish's shoulder at the polished jukebox. "Do you want some music?" she asked suddenly. Without waiting for an answer, she jumped up from the booth.

Trish shook her head, frustrated. This was getting out of hand. She didn't want to force Stacy to say something she wasn't ready to, but she couldn't stand looking at her like this.

Sounds of Johnny Cash's "Hurt" began playing only adding to the gloom of the place. The whitewashed diner hardly seemed like an appealing option for Trish, but she wanted to guarantee privacy and this was the only place she could find. Trish sighed as Stacy sank down into the seat once again.

"Does this have something to do with Greg?"

Stacy met Trish's eyes as she bit her lip. Greg was barely even part of the picture anymore. The last few days, he had eluded her, and she couldn't say she was too eager to run into him.

"He told me he liked me as more than a friend."

Trish's eyes widened. "When?"

"A couple of days ago. He told me the day we had that match against the Heart Throbs."

"So this is why you've been acting weird?" Trish asked.

Stacy frowned. "I haven't been acting weird Trish. I've just been feeling like crap because I can't return his feelings."

Trish nodded sympathetically. "I understand. But you have togive him time to get over it. After a while, things will be the same."

Stacy scoffed at her friend's advice. "Don't be stupid Trish; you of all people should know how long it takes to get over someone. At least I didn't sleep with him."

Trish's mouth dropped at Stacy cold words.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded.

Stacy waved her hand as if swatting away a pesky fly. "I'm not the one who dwells on the past. Get over him Trish, he probably did worse things."

Like me, thought Stacy bitterly. Deep down, she knew the only reason she was acting so coldly was because Trish was free. Randy might have tossed her aside after the first time, but_ she _was the one who had to put up with him. _She _was the one who had to get up in the middle of the night because Randy called her for a late night sack session. And_ she _was the one who would be called a slut for sleeping with him, not poor little Trish.

"I'm sorry for having feelings, Stacy," said Trish. She looked at the frayed edges of the seat, her vision blurring.

Stacy stared at her best friend. She hadn't meant to hurt her. She knew Trish always took everything to heart. But she was hesitant to apologize. Wasn't she stating the truth? If Trish would just get over her damn self and move on with her life, Stacy would be able to confide in her once again.

If Trish would just get over herself, Stacy realized, she wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. She glared at Trish as it dawned on her that the petite blonde across from her was the reason she was being forced to be Randy's sex toy.

"Stop crying Trish," she said sardonically. Any trace of sympathy was erased from the face of the taller diva. She didn't want to deal with her anymore. She didn't want to deal with anything. She reached for her purse, ignoring the puzzled look she was receiving from a tearful Trish.

"I'm gonna walk back to the hotel," she stated flatly. She stood up slowly and looked around the diner, a bored expression on her face. "Next time you decide you wanna talk, try not to make it all about you."

Trish's mouth dropped a second time. When had Stacy ever acted like this? She was one of the warmest, most caring person Trish had ever met. And now…

Trish let her head fall on the table as she gave up. The person who had just left was not Stacy. Her best friend would never say such hurtful words to her. But what had happened? Was Greg really the reason she was acting like this?

Trish wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. Maybe Stacy was right, maybe she was too emotional. A fresh wave of sadness came over her at the thought. She couldn't help how deeply she felt. Stacy had always understood that.

She glanced up as a shadow came over the table.

"What did you order again?" asked the waitress, now chewing loudly on a piece of bright green gum.

Trish rolled her eyes as she began to gather her things.

"Never mind, I'm not that hungry anymore."

(X X X)

Christy Hemme tapped her fingers impatiently on the clothed table. Glancing at her watch for the umpteenth time, she let out an angry breath. Where the hell was he? She looked around as she debated on whether or not to leave. She was about to get up to go back to her hotel room, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Sorry I'm late."

A frown marred the face of the redheaded diva as she leaned back in her seat once again. She crossed her arms across her chest as she watched him settle into the seat, oblivious of her displeasure.

"You're late," she said bluntly. She looked away as he sent an apologetic smile in her direction.

"Yea, sorry bout that," he said, brushing his shoe against her bare leg. Christy glared as she gave him a hard kick to the shin.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"My foot slipped."

"Never heard of a foot slippin so hard," she heard him grumble under his breath.

"So why are you late?"

John Cena licked his lips as he debated on whether or not to tell her the truth. "Well, ah, see Torrie was kinda cryin, and I, uh, ya know," he trailed off.

Christy held back a scream threatening to erupt. "Is her mom feeling any better?" she asked instead.

John shrugged as he took a roll and proceeded to spread butter on it. "She hasn't really said nothin about it."

Christy raised her eyebrows in question. That was strange. Shouldn't she be spilling everything to John if she needed him so bad?

"So how you been?" Christy shrugged in return as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Ok, I guess."

John looked up to find her staring absently at her hands. He reached over the table to grasp them and tightened his hold when she attempted to pull away. Softly stroking her small knuckles, he puller her towards him until finally, she met his gaze.

"What's up?"

Christy shook her head fervently. "Nothing," she replied in a small voice.

"C'mon babe, tell me what's wrong," encouraged John softly.

Christy swallowed hard as she finally managed to free her hands from his intoxicating caress. What was she supposed to say? If she told him that watching him be with Torrie was about to make her crazy, then he would just get angry.

"It's just hard," she said finally. She chewed her lip as she saw him rake a hand through his short hair.

"Well, it's not no bed of roses for me either," he sighed.

Christy scoffed at his response. Putting her hands on the table once again, she leaned forward to look him straight in the eye. "What's so hard about it John? You have a girl to sleep with and a girl on the side just waiting. Oh yea, I feel real sorry for you," she said sarcastically.

John bit his tongue as he felt a surge of anger course through his body. He didn't want to start screaming at her in the middle of the hotel restaurant where anyone could walk in.

"You think it's easy for me to keep resisting my own girlfriend because I have someone waiting for me?"

Christy clenched her fists as she stared at him angrily. Her nails dug painfully into her palms, but she ignored it as she spoke again.

"So just fuck her already," she said through gritted teeth.

"Why the hell would I go and do something stupid like that?" shot back John. His eyes shone with unexpressed emotion. He felt like shooting up out of his seat and shaking some sense into her, but he held back. He was doing all this for _her_, and she didn't even appreciate his efforts.

Christy fell silent. What else could she say? There was no winning in her situation. She was supposed to wait patiently and pretend it didn't hurt her every time she saw Torrie with him. Anything else and she would be selfish. Torrie needed him; Christy only wanted him.

"I'm sorry," she started quietly. "I know you-"

"John! There you are baby!"

Her words sticking in her throat as she placed a face with that voice, Christy glanced up to see Torrie Wilson walking over to their table. She wore a bright smile as she reached down and gave John a kiss. Christy's stomach dropped as she looked away.

"Hey babe, I thought you were gonna stay up in your room?" John said nervously, wiping his lips. He scooted over to make room for her to sit down. She pressed against him as she interlaced her fingers through his and brought both their hands up to the top, making sure to place them right in the middle.

Christy cleared her throat uncomfortably as she felt her face flush with embarrassment.

"I think I'm gonna go."

"Don't go, Christy. If I would have known John was gonna meet you here, I would have come down earlier." Torrie sent Christy a smirk as she reached over and ran her fingers lightly down John's bicep.

Christy shook her head, forcing a smile. "Thanks for the invite, but I planned on dining alone anyways." She took note of the hurt look on John's face, but ignored it. She looked back one last time to say her goodbyes, but finding Torrie stroking John's chin, she quickened her pace instead.

Almost out of the doorway, she felt someone holding her back.

"I didn't know she was gonna come down."

Christy nodded as she pushed John's hand away.

"Go back to her John, she needs you more than I do." Unable to keep the emotion out of her voice, she gave him an angry glare.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" asked John. His voice was steeled with impatience as he glanced back at Torrie who was looking in their direction.

"Nothing! Just go back to her and leave me alone." She ignored his pleading eyes as she made her way once more to the exit.

John stood rooted to the spot as he watched her walk away. He looked over his shoulder to see Torrie waving for him to come join her. Sighing, he turned to walk back to her.

Christy stopped short as she almost collided with someone.

"You okay there?"

Raising her eyes, she found herself looking at the face of the self proclaimed 'wrestling God.'

"I'm fine," she said shortly. She tried to push past him but he gripped her elbow, causing her to turn around.

"Is that Cena boy bothering you?" he asked a sour expression as he mentioned John's name.

"No…" replied Christy softly, her eyes darting to where John was sitting. She saw him looking at her with a 'what the hell?' look on his face.

"You sure? That boy doesn't know how to behave around people, especially ladies like yourself."

Christy gave a small smile. It had been a long time since she had been called a lady.

"He's just really insistent," said Christy smiling. The big man gave a bitter laugh as he shook his head

"He's more than insistent, that boy is downright pigheaded." He glared over at the direction of the happy couple and gave a snort. "He's so into that girlfriend of his, he forgot how to be a man."

Christy smiled at the older mans insult. Looking back once again, her breath stopped short as she saw Torrie reach across the table and plant another kiss on John's lips.

"He is a jackass," muttered Christy quietly.

"I tell ya, those two need to be taught a lesson. I hear that Torrie girl is giving you divas a hard time backstage. Is that true?" he inquired.

Christy shrugged, forcing herself to keep her back turned. She could almost feel John's eyes boring into her.

"I guess she is a bitch," she agreed.

"Well, then it looks like we have something in common," said JBL, a trace of delight in his voice. "And I think I know a way we can put them both in their place."

Christy's ears perked up in interest. She had heard that JBL was an attention-hogging wrestler who would do just about anything to keep the spotlight on him.

"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

JBL gave her a toothy grin as he lowered his head to whisper his plan.

"Well, I believe me and you could make a pretty good team. I'm sure Teddy will give his best wrestler and his prettiest diva a match against those two."

"You mean an intergender match?" asked Christy doubtfully.

JBL nodded his head. "Yes, I can ask him for one. I've been trying to get my hands on that punk kid for a while now. And you can have a couple of swings at his little girlfriend." He offered her his arm as he waited for her answer.

Christy bit her lip as she thought about his proposal. Looking over her shoulder once again, she saw John looking like he was on the verge of exploding. Christy knew John despised JBL. She could only imagine what he must be thinking as he saw her talk to him.

Turning back to JBL with a smile on her face, Christy looped her arm through his.

"I'm in."

(X X X)

"Eww, you're sick?"

The young superstar shut his eyes in an attempt to keep his voice low.

"Would you like me to throw up so I can prove it?"

Candice Michelle gave a disappointed sigh as she leaned against the doorframe.

"So does this mean we cant do anything?"

Randy grabbed the blankets around him in fistfuls in annoyance. His throat was already feeling scratchy and he didn't want to make it worse.

"I'm not in the mood, don't you get it? Get out and find some other guy to fuck." He fell back against the cool pillows as she shrugged her shoulders, undaunted by his insult.

"Fine. Call me when you're feeling better." She turned away and a few seconds later, Randy heard the door closed. He gave a loud groan as he grabbed his forehead with both hands. His head was killing him. He tried to settle in comfortably in between the sheets, but the restlessness soon got him out of bed. He dragged his feet as he made his way out of the bedroom, not particularly having a destination.

He ended up in the kitchen and almost collapsed on the chair. He rolled his shoulder as he uttered a loud string of curses. Lord he hated being sick. His whole body ached and his head felt like it was being hit again and again with a hammer.

He rose his head groggily as he heard a soft knock. Not sure if he was just hearing things, he stayed put. Another soft knock got him slowly to his feet as he made his way to the door, muttering about people not leaving him alone.

"What?" he growled, as he swung open the door.

Stacy Keibler frowned right back at him as she raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with you?"

Randy moved aside to let her come in. "I'm sick."

Stacy giggled as he continued to glare at her.

"What did I tell you about doing it in freezing temperature, genius?"

"I don't wanna hear any I told you so's," grumbled Randy as he fell back on the couch cushions. He made a pained face as his muscles suddenly tensed.

"What hurts?" asked Stacy, a note of concern in her voice.

"Everything," mumbled Randy. He closed his eyes as he attempted to block out the incessant banging of his head.

Stacy's look grew worried as she studied the man before her. He didn't look like a womanizing jackass at the moment. He looked like a little kid who didn't know anything about taking care of himself.

"Do you want me to get you some food?" She closed her mouth quickly as soon as she heard herself say that. Why should she even care? If he was sick, it only meant good things for her.

"I don't need anyone to help me," said Randy, not opening his eyes.

Stacy rolled her eyes. "You _look _like you need help."

"Well I don't," snapped Randy. He winced as his head suddenly started to throb harder.

"Oh really? What medicine have you taken so far?" She shook her head as Randy kept quiet. "I know you're stubborn, but you have to admit when you need help." Digging through her purse, she held up a bottle of aspirin and popped two pills out.

"I don't want any girl pills," complained Randy. He was stopped short as a sudden fit of coughs overtook him.

Stacy bit her lip softly as she watched him. Deciding to ignore her better judgment, she resolved to stay with him at least until he fell asleep. He would probably die if she left him to take care of himself.

Striding into the kitchen, she retrieved a glass of water and made her way to where he was sitting.

"Take these," she ordered, as she tried to put the pills in his mouth. He pursed his lips and moved his head away stubbornly.

"I'm not a little kid," he said snatching the pills from her. He attempted to do the same to the glass of water, but it ended up on his shirt.

Stacy held back a laugh as he groaned. He glared at her and drank what remained of the water. "I don't think wearing cold water is going to do you any good."

"Ya think?" he sneered. He gripped the hem of his shirt as he pulled it over his head. He tried to keep a stoic face in the midst of all this, but the movement made his whole body ache.

Stacy caught herself staring at his physique. He had a great body. She, as well as everyone who knew him, could agree on that. Scolding herself that she could even think about him this way after the way he treated her, she looked away quickly unable to stop the small blush.

"I don't like having company when I feel like crap, so would you mind getting out?"

Stacy placed her hands on her hips as she shook her head, reprovingly. "So you expect to get all better by moping around doing nothing?"

"I'm not moping," mumbled Randy. He attempted to block out her presence, but a few seconds later, he felt her tug at his arm.

"You cant lay around in nothing but shorts. You have to go to bed where you'll be warm."

He shook his hand out of her grasp easily and sat up. "What if I don't wanna go to bed? Who told you I needed to be taken care of anyways? Just leave already," he snapped.

A hurt look flitted across the leggy blondes face, but she regained her composure quickly. She took a hold of his hand again and twisted his finger as she pulled for him to get up.

"Ow! I'm already sick and now I have a broken finger!" he exclaimed, shooting up and flinging her hand aside.

Stacy smirked. "It got you off the couch didn't it?"

Randy rubbed his sore finger as a sudden twinkle came into his eyes. "Give me a massage."

Stacy's smile disappeared faster then the words had come out of his mouth. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You don't wanna leave because you want some action, I get that. But since I cant really do you right now, a massage is the next best thing."

Stacy fumed at his cocky observation. So she wanted to stay because she wanted sex, was that what he thought?

"Don't flatter yourself, Randy. I'm only here because I feel sorry for your stupid ass. This is what you get for having the bright idea of fucking in the middle of an open road while its snowing."

Randy's eyes clouded in anger, but he reigned in his temper. He wasn't about to yell at her when every word he spoke felt like sandpaper against his throat. "Just get something to rub on me." He walked a few steps to the bedroom, but turned back when she didn't follow him. "Lets go, you're the one who wants to play nurse."

Stacy eyes narrowed as she stared at his receding back. What if she just left right now? What if she just turned around and left him lying on the bed waiting for her?

"Move your ass babe!" Stacy gritted her teeth as she dragged her feet into the bedroom where he was already lying on his stomach. His head was resting atop his folded hands as he stared at her. Stacy looked around the room for a sign of oil as she forced herself to stop feeling like he was undressing her with his eyes. He was just a guy. A sick guy at that. There was no reason for her to feel scared of him.

"I think I put some oil in the bathroom next to the sink," he drawled lazily. Reaching the bathroom, a bright red bottle caught her eye at once.

_Me So Horny Massage Oil_

"Classy," she muttered distastefully under her breath. She popped open the cap and took a whiff. The distinct scent of sandalwood invaded her lungs as she closed her eyes. She let her lips part as the invigorating smell continued to weave its spell on her. But she was brought back to reality quickly.

"Would you hurry up?"

Snapping out of her reverie, Stacy hastily shut the top back in place and walked tentatively into the room.

"Turn the lights down."

Stacy obliged, moving as slowly as she could.

"What are you waiting for? You wanna make me feel better, don't you?" Randy's deep voice resounded through the dim room as Stacy kneeled on the bed. Once again, she opened the top only to have the alluring smell penetrate her senses.

"What's in this?" she murmured, carefully placing a dollop of honey colored oil into her palm.

"Patchouli, ylang-ylang, and sandalwood. Stuff that invigorates and exhilarates you," answered Randy, his voice muffled by the thick blanket.

Stacy nodded to no one in particular. She continued to rub the oil in between her hands, warming it up. She looked down at the man in front of her. He was big. His body spanned the whole bed, even with his knees bent. His back rose and fell with the steady rhythm of his breathing. Stacy would have thought he was asleep except for the fact that he turned his head around and gave her an annoyed look.

"Are you gonna stare at me all night?"

Stacy took a deep breath as she finally set her hands on his back. Scooting closer to his side, she began to spread the oil across him as evenly as possible. She was stopped as he reached behind and grabbed her hand.

"Nuh-uh babe. No good massage comes from the side. Get on top."

Stacy hesitated at his request. The only time she had ever been that close to Randy was when they were having sex. And that hadn't turned out so great.

Placing her knees at either side of his hips, Stacy attempted to limit the contact between them. After finding out that she would probably end up sore from staying in that position, she gradually let herself settle down against his butt. He groaned in approval as she reached up in order to rub his shoulders. Stacy couldn't help the crimson that arose in her cheeks.

Instead, she focused on the tattoo across his back. Inadvertently, she traced the pattern with her oil-slicked hands. A gloss appeared on the body art and it shined brilliantly. Focusing on the swirls and curves of the ink, she lost herself, unaware of his response to her gentle caress.

Randy held back another moan as he felt her weight shift. What was it that made it seem like every movement was ten times more erotic? The low lighting and the intoxicating smell had something to do with it obviously, but the way her small hands were running across his back made him forget all about the aching in his shoulders. And it started a different aching somewhere else.

Randy bit his lip softly as she pressed harder against him when she reached up to massage his shoulder blades. He buried his head further into the bed as he concentrated on keeping the growls inside. He didn't want her to know he was enjoying it this much.

Stacy sighed as she continued to smooth her hands over his back. He seemed so harmless. Who would have thought the man lying so peacefully underneath her could make her feel so ashamed? She had just been with Trish a few hours ago, and here she was now. It didn't seem right, but if she wanted to prevent Trish from getting hurt further, she would just have to keep quiet and do what he said. Maybe one day he would get bored and leave her alone. As much as she hated to acknowledge that she was referring to herself as an object, she also hated being under his complete control.

Randy's breathing became ragged as she continued. Damn it, this wasn't relaxing him at all. On the contrary, it was stirring him up and making him unbearably stimulated. And he couldn't blame it all on the oil. How the hell was he supposed to know it would feel this _good_?

Stacy's eyes glazed as she drifted into her own little world. She hardly noticed what she was doing. She had taken massage classes a long time ago because Test had made her. That had been one of the few things she had willingly done for him. Every time before a match, she could be found giving him a massage while he complained about her, the business, his figure, and everything else. Stacy had learned to turn a deaf ear to his chatter, and he was usually so involved in what he was saying he didn't even notice.

The same was happening now. How many times had Stacy sworn she wouldn't let herself be used and abused? But she had fallen, once again, into the wrong arms. As much as she hated to admit it, Randy had the possibility of being another Scott and Test. She finally brought her gaze down to the man under her as she noticed that he seemed to be squirming.

Randy forced himself to keep his head buried in the covers, but his body had other plans. There was no fatigue in him now, and the only thing that throbbed was lying between his thighs.

"Are you feeling restless?"

Randy nearly groaned at her question. She had no idea. He was surprised he wasn't lifting himself off the bed with the major erection she was giving him.

"I'm fine," he managed to growl out. He motioned for her to go on and ground his teeth so hard he thought he would explode.

Stacy shrugged and continued to stroke his back. She gave a small smile when she heard him moan. Looked like she hadn't lost her touch, she thought proudly. Reaching for the bottle of oil next to his head, she was startled by his sudden grip on her hand.

"I think its time we switched positions," he muttered.

Stacy's eyes widened as he settled comfortably on his back. She could feel him. _All _of him, pressed against her thighs. She looked away at the window, embarrassed.

"Maybe we should stop," she murmured, trying hard not to let him see her blush.

Randy nearly laughed. There was no way in _hell _he was going to stop this.

"I'm the one who calls the shots around here babe. My back is all good, but I think I need some work in the front."

Stacy shook her head and began to pull back but he grabbed her arm. "I said get to work," he said, his voice edged with impatience. Stacy bit her lip as she looked at his half-lidded gaze. He seemed calm enough. If it hadn't been for the obvious sign of arousal, Stacy would have thought he was getting ready to fall asleep.

Attempting to block out the hardness that was pressing right against her thighs, she opened the top and squeezed more oil into her hands. She cleared her throat nervously as she felt his eyes looking her over. This had been much easier when he had been on his stomach. Finally, she put her fingers tentatively to his chest. His muscles immediately jumped at her light touch, making Stacy blush even more.

Randy clenched his jaw as her hands continued their massage. Whether she knew it or not, Stacy was making him hotter. When her hands finally slid their way to his abs, he was ready to take her, regardless of his state of health.

Stacy gasped when Randy brought his hands to her hips. She withdrew her hands and was about to tell him they should stop when he spoke.

"Shhh, just keep doing what you're doing," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers worked their way to her butt and rested there.

Stacy twisted herself angrily out of his grasp and pushed herself off the bed.

"I don't wanna do this anymore."

Randy's eyes snapped open. "Nobody's asking you, Stacy. I told you exactly what I wanted and you agreed."

Stacy shook her head, exasperated. This was too much. Sick people weren't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to let her take care of him and fall asleep. But that hadn't happened. As always, Randy was in charge and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Just let me go for tonight," she said finally. Her eyes pleaded with him to comply but she refused to beg.

Randy chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't think so."

Stacy's eyes clouded in anger. "Why are you such an asshole?" she blurted out furiously. Couldn't he see how much she hated him? How much she wanted to get away?

"I've always acted like this babe. And I've gotten everything I've ever wanted, why should I stop now?" He smirked as he saw her throw her arms up and roll her eyes. Girls always looked better when they were mad. And Stacy was no exception with her heaving chest and pouty lips.

Stacy swallowed hard as she forced down a scream working its way up her throat. Her mother had always taught her there was good in every person. But he had to be the exception. Stacy looked over the young man sprawled lazily on the bed, attempting to keep her voice steady.

"I don't understand you," she whispered quietly.

Randy's smirk disappeared as he caught her eyes shining in the soft light. Good Lord was she _crying_?

"Don't cry," he said. It came out harsher than he had intended and he forced himself to maintain a nonchalant expression as he saw a solitary tear work its way down her cheek.

"Just let me go Randy. Stop being so selfish and let me go," Stacy said, her voice reverberating with passion. If she was in here a second longer, she would explode. She wiped angrily at her tears and took a deep breath. "I cant believe you get pleasure out of this, I really cant. I mean I thought everyone had a little good in them. But apparently that doesn't apply to you. Nothing applies to you does it?" her voice raised in sarcasm as she continued.

"You think just because your daddy's a hall of famer you have some sort of right to act like you're better than everyone. Do you know what people say about you? The ones that aren't busy sucking your dick that is. They all think you're the worst piece of shit they've ever laid eyes on. After all you did to the girls and you still manage to walk around with your nose in the air. I never really thought I could hate a person. Until I met you."

Her last words hung in the air heavily. Silence filled the room, making Stacy struggle not to run towards the door. She wished he would say something; this was worse than anything he could have yelled at her. She forced herself to look into his eyes. She almost cringed as his eyes bore into hers, with a fury she had never seen before. If looks could kill… Stacy held her breath as he opened his mouth.

"Get out."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE. 

Hope every1 had a very Merry Christmas and an early Happy NewYears 2 all. Enjoy :)

"So he completely surprised me by coming down here! Oh my God, I can't wait till this show is over. I tried to get Vince to let me take today off, but you know what an ass he can be."

Dawn's excited voice filled the small dressing room as she continued to talk about how Chris had suddenly appeared in her hotel room with a dozen tulips. Which she kept repeating was her _favorite_ flower.

"He's so amazing. I mean, what other guy travels a thousand miles just to see the look on my face when he surprised me?" Dawn sighed as her eyes turned dreamy. She put her hands to her chest and a smile played along her lips. "I love him so much."

Christy restrained the impulse to run out of the room screaming bloody murder. Sure, she enjoyed Dawn's company, but hearing her talk about how perfect her husband was only reminded her that she had no one.

"I'm sorry Christy," said Dawn snapping out of her fantasies. "How are you and John?"

"What?" sputtered Christy, caught off guard. As far as anyone knew, she and John barely even knew each other.

"Oh sweetie, I know everything," soothed Dawn as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Don't get mad, but I was the one who suggested he go up to your room that one night. By the way, how did that go?"

"Fine," said Christy quickly.

"Are you sure everything is okay?"

"Yea, I mean, you know, we talk and stuff. But that's it."

"Well, I guess if you like him as just a friend," started Dawn skeptically. Her instincts told her Christy was lying, but she decided to drop it; for now. "Him and Torrie seem to be spending a lot of time together," she observed offhandedly.

Christy's fingers twitched in frustration. Even now she felt the urge to slap the blonde's face. Oh, getting in the ring with her would feel _good_.

"Well they are going out," she shrugged. She gave herself a last look in the mirror and turned to Dawn with a smile. "How do I look?"

"Great," responded Dawn, giving her a thumbs-up sign.

"Well, I'm gonna go. I have to go over some last minute details with JBL." She was stopped as Dawn put an arm up.

"I wanted to ask you… why are you going into this match with JBL? He's only had a few partners and for a good reason. He only worries about himself when he's in that ring," said Dawn uneasily.

Christy brushed off her concerns. "Don't worry; even if he's as bad as everyone says he is, I can take care of myself."

Dawn bit her lip as she finally let her arm drop. "Well, good luck and be careful."

"I will," promised Christy. She sent a reassuring smile as she shut the door and made her way down the long hallway.

"Where have you been?"

A smug smile spread across the redhead's features as she heard the familiar voice behind her.

"John! How are you?" Her smiled widened as she caught sight of his confused expression.

"I tried calling you and you didn't answer. Whassup?"

"Nothing! I guess I was just too busy talking to my mother. You know, the one you cursed out last time I let you into my hotel room?" Christy asked sweetly.

John eyed her warily. "Is that what this is about?"

"No, Johnny, I'm just_ so _excited about our match tonight!"

"What the hell is up with you?" asked John angrily. "Why are you getting in the ring with that idiot?"

Christy's smile faded as she rolled her eyes. "I really wish everyone would stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself."

"Where'd this attitude come from?" John took a step forward to take her hand but Christy placed her them on her hips.

"What attitude? Maybe you just don't know me, John. And I don't really want you to. You think I'm stupid enough to believe that your just gonna dump your girlfriend for me?" Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, embarrassed she was getting so worked up.

"You believed me last night," argued John, an incredulous look on his face. "What changed?"

"Nothing changed,_ John _," replied Christy drawing out her words. "I actually had to listen to my mom bitch me out for an hour because of your _wonderful _conversation with her." Christy paused as John attempted to reply, but she reached out and touched his forearm. "My mom may be a bitch, but she's not stupid." Christy closed the space between them until she was inches from his face. "And what she said made a lot of sense."

"What'd she say?" asked John, breathing a little heavier. His muscles tensed as he heard Christy laugh softly.

"Guys like you only want excitement. And what's more exciting than cheating on your girlfriend?" Her hands went to brush against his ribcage as she ran her nails lightly over his abs. He controlled the shiver that was taking a hold of his spine as he licked his dry lips, but she put a finger to his lips to shush him.

"Don't talk baby, just listen. When I came into this company, I had a lot of high hopes. I pictured a big happy family, where everyone got along. I never got it at home, so I thought I would find it here. But the only thing I found were a bunch of horny wrestlers and a shitload of even hornier girls that would drop their pants for anyone who told them they were beautiful." Her finger withdrew from his lips and she stood on tiptoe to take his bottom lip between her teeth. She bit lightly and let go before he had a chance to act.

"I may be a lot of things, John, but I wont be a slut." Her words were spoken with an air of finality. The playfulness was gone from her eyes and she raised a brow, as if waiting for a challenge.

John racked his brain for something to say. She was making absolutely no sense right now. Sure, he understood she didn't want to be seen as a slut, but where the hell had that come from? Did she really believe John was the kind of guy who got some perverted thrill out of cheating on his girl? His eyes narrowed. He had been categorized, labeled, and judged all his life. And frankly, it was getting annoying.

"You think you got me all figured out don't you?" his voice came in a hiss which startled Christy. But he was completely calm. Except for a small vein ticking on the side of his head.

"You think you're the only one who's got it hard? Do you think I like all the stereotypes people pin on me because of the way I dress and the music I listen to?" His voice came out harsh, as if he had wanted to say all this for a very long time.

"I don't-"

"Shut up," spat John roughly. "I don't give a fuck what you do or don't. You had your little moment; I'm having mine." Christy paled as he glared at her. It seemed like she had just opened a Pandora's Box, and it didn't sound like he was stopping anytime soon.

"You know, I thought the only fake thing about you were your tits, but I guess its your personality too. That or you're a schizoid, which is it?" He took one of her arms and gripped her hard enough to make her gasp. "I'm tired of this bullshit. I told you I was gonna break up with Torrie to be with you, but that wasn't good enough, was it? No, I'm a pervert who likes to cheat on his girlfriend."

"Let go," said Christy fiercely. He was starting to alarm her, his blue eyes shining so magnificently.

"Why you scared? Am I abusive now too?" John laughed bitterly. "What I wouldn't give to get inside that head of yours," he almost crooned, stroking Christy's hair. Christy's eyes closed tightly, as if wishing him away.

"I'm tired Christy."

His words came so softly, Christy wasn't heard she heard him correctly.

"I'm tired of people telling me I don't deserve the championship. I'm tired of having to work twice as hard to be taken seriously. I'm tired of all the crap you're putting me through." His eyes had dimmed considerably, almost black now. He loosened his hold, but didn't let go.

"I had sex with Torrie yesterday." Christy wrenched away from him.

"I'm happy for you," she snarled sarcastically.

"I just thought you should know," he said, looking past her shoulder. "I don't know what you want from me," he started hesitantly, as if not sure of what he was going to say. "But I'm tired of trying to please everyone… and always coming up short."

Christy's heart softened for a moment, but her mothers words rang in her ears once more.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," she said curtly. "We have a match; you wouldn't want all your adoring fans to see you like this would you?"

John eyes finally snapped to hers, and Christy almost stepped back with the intensity they held.

"I don't know who made you like this. But if you don't get your shit together, I'm giving up."

Christy mouth went dry as his words struck a nerve. She started to speak, but this time it was John who put a finger to her lips.

"Shhh, wouldn't want anyone to see you like this would you?"

(X X X)

Trish Stratus walked across the carpeted hall with a new bounce in her step. Her last meeting with Stacy hadn't gone quite as expected, but that didn't matter now. She understood why Stacy was pushing people away. Dave, the most wonderful man in the_ world_, had explained it all.

After Stacy had stormed out of the restaurant to leave Trish behind, she had decided to tip her chin up and find out what was going on. She hadn't made it to Stacy's room, but instead encountered a hungry Dave, who was on his way to get something to eat. He had asked for her company, and of course Trish had accepted.

After prodding delicately as to why she was being so quiet, Trish had spilled. Maybe it had something to do with the way Dave's hand kept stroking her leg, or the way his eyes had gazed into hers like he could see her very soul, but she had told him everything. It had been scary at first, realizing she had no control of her tongue when it came to Dave, but eventually she surrendered.

She began by telling him about Stacy's conduct, and he had nodded as if he understood perfectly. When she finally finished, Trish had taken a big sigh and waited to be told she was blowing things out of proportion. But what he had told her made perfect sense.

She was tired. Being Babe of the Year took its toll. Hell, just being a diva could get exhausting. But Babe of the Year carried more responsibility. Everyone would be on your case if you so much as gained a pound, mocking you behind your back and telling anyone who would listen how you didn't deserve the honor. Trish would know; she had gone through it three times already. But Stacy had it even harder. She was one of the only divas who had been there longer and was still used solely for T&A. She hardly ever got matches, and if she did, it was to put someone_ else _over. Of course people talked. And she must have been tired of hearing it. So she had taken out her frustrations on the person closest to her; Trish.

Trish remembered nodding her head similar to one of those bobble head dolls. All Dave had said made sense. Of course, the calm way he explained everything would have made rocket science make perfect sense too. But Trish didn't hold grudges against her friends. And Stacy had been there for her. So she would return the favor. If it meant she had to take some attitude, so be it. She wasn't guaranteeing she wouldn't blow a fuse herself once in a while if Stacy got too bitchy, but she was trying wasn't she?

Finally reaching the door, Trish knocked. Almost immediately, the door opened. Trish frowned as she saw the person before her.

Stacy stared back expressionlessly as she moved aside to let her through. She was dressed in baggy sweatpants and a large sweatshirt that almost swallowed her. Her eyes were red as if she had been crying, and sure enough, Trish saw a tissue in her hand.

All at once, Trish realized there was more to it then the hectic schedule or the pressure that came with being Babe of the Year.

"Stacy sweetie what's wrong?" Without waiting for an answer, the smaller diva reached across and held Stacy in her arms.

"Stacy," tried Trish again softly. She pulled back to look at Stacy's eyes, but she averted her gaze. There was something Stacy wasn't telling her, that much Trish was sure of. She remembered how Stacy always said eyes were the windows to the soul. Her soul must be very troubled if she couldn't look her in the eye, thought Trish, worry etched in her features.

"Stace," she said, shaking her friend slightly. She was hoping to get rid of the vacant expression on the taller divas face. "What's wrong?" Trish took her hand and gently led her to the armchair.

"Tell me what's wrong," said Trish a little more determined.

"I'm sorry Trish." Stacy dabbed at her eyes to keep the tears from running their course down her cheeks.

"Sorry for what?"

"For saying those things to you the other day. I was just so mad…" Stacy's features darkened for a second, as if remembering. "I just want you to know that I really love you," she said softly, a faint smile on her lips. "And I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me. You've been my best friend and I want you to know I would never hurt you on purpose."

"What is this about?" asked Trish, utterly confused. She took a seat on the edge of the coffee table and sighed. Ok, so this probably wasn't about Babe of the Year. But if not that, then what?

"I cant tell you," whispered Stacy. Her eyes darted up to meet Trish's for a split second, but that was all she needed to register the hurt on the small blondes face.

"You can tell me anything, Stace, you know that," said Trish firmly.

"Just trust me when I say I'm doing this for you. And please don't tell Greg about this. I don't want him asking any questions."

"What does Greg have to do with this?"

"Just please don't tell him anything. He wont leave me alone if he finds out I'm like this. And I… I cant deal with him right now."

Trish gave a troubled sigh. This was getting stranger by the second. "I thought me and Greg were your friends."

Stacy nodded. "You are, and I swear I'll tell you both everything. But for now can you just drop it? And not tell anyone?" her eyes pleaded for Trish to consent. Trish shook her head, unwilling to leave it at that. But it didn't look like she was getting much out of her tonight.

"When will you be able to tell me?"

Stacy's hands tightened around the tissue as she looked away. Trish was about to ask again when she answered.

"I'll tell you as soon as I figure out what to do."

Trish frowned. That wasn't very specific. But she would have to take it.

"Can you figure it out soon? Cuz your making me look bad."

Stacy cracked a smile as she raised a brow. "How am I making you look bad?"

Trish rolled her eyes dramatically. "Well I was Babe of the Year three years running. How do you think it makes me look that I got beat by you?"

Stacy laughed. "I think I look great."

"Oh yea," said Trish sarcastically, looking at Stacy's attire. "Red nose's and sweats are sexy nowadays."

Both divas laughed, grateful for anything to lighten the mood.

A soft ring interrupted them as the phone beside Trish lit up. She handed it to Stacy and watched as the leggy blonde's face reverted to sadness again.

"Hello?" answered Stacy in a meek voice.

Trish looked on as she shut her eyes and covered her face with the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt. Whoever it was, Stacy didn't want to talk to them.

"Why? No… all right. Yes… _yes_. Bye."

"Who was that?"

"No one. Listen Trish, I'm gonna take a shower and try to get some sleep. I'll talk to you later ok?"

Trish stood up eyeing Stacy doubtfully. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay? We can rent some movies and eat junk food."

Stacy shook her head wearily. "I'd like that, but I think I'm just gonna go straight to bed. Gotta get my beauty rest to look half as good as you," she joked.

Trish nodded and opened the door to go out. Changing her mind, she turned back to Stacy. "Call if you need to talk," she said seriously. "Whatever it is, I'll be there for you."

"Thank you," whispered Stacy as she gave her a hug. "That really means a lot to me." She pulled back with a genuine smile.

"Talk to you later then."

"Night," said Stacy as she shut the door. She closed her eyes for a second taking deep breathes to try clear her mind. Pushing away from the door, she strode into her room. She was going to have to hurry. Although her hands were trembling as she shifted through her clothes, she knew what she had to do.

(X X X)

"And introducing first from Los Angeles, California, Christy Hemme!"

There was less pep in her step as Christy made her way to the ring. And with good reason. After her run in with John, he had walked away, leaving her to stand alone until_ finally _, she had snapped to her senses. Personal problems or not, she had a match and she didn't intend to screw it up.

After being hassled by Orlando Jordan until she had been forced to threaten to kick him in the nuts, he had left her and JBL alone to discuss the impending match. Christy had noticed the gleam in the big mans eyes. She felt uneasy, but she had told herself he couldn't do anything_ too _bad, right?

Not to worry, he had told her, flashing his toothy grin. He would take care of business with that Cena boy, and when he needed a breather, Christy could come in for a bit. If there was ever any trouble, she could tag him back in. She could trust him. But something was wrong. Christy could feel it in the pit of her stomach.

She ducked in between the ropes smiling at the crowd until her music died down.

"And her tag team partner from New York City, John Bradshaw Layfield!"

Christy licked her lips as she shifted from foot to foot. To say she was nervous would be an understatement. Damn his entrance was long. The swelling music only served to increase her anxiety. Finally, he stepped out of the limo. He took his hat off and smiled widely as the crowd booed him.

Christy forced another smile as he walked down the ramp. He winked at her as he got in the ring. After posing, he joined her in the middle, speaking out of the side of his mouth.

"Remember what we talked about."

"Yea," replied Christy lowly as she watched Tony raise his mic again.

"And one half of the opposing team, from Boise, Idaho, Torrie Wilson!"

Christy involuntarily flinched as she heard the music play. After what seemed like hours of poses, she strutted down the ramp, slowly raising herself up on the apron. She looked at JBL and Christy and shook her head, a smile spreading across her face. Instead of joining them in the ring, she turned her back and looked towards the ramp.

"Haling from West Newbury, Massachusetts, the WWE Champion, John Cena!"

His music started to play and as Christy watched from the corner of her eye, JBL's lips were moving. She leaned in inconspicuously to try to catch what he was saying but only heard snatches.

"Punk think he can take the belt… wont know what hit him."

Christy was about to turn to him to ask what he meant when she felt the ring shift slightly. She fixed her gaze instead on the two people opposite from her. As she watched, Torrie stepped in front of John and planted a kiss on his lips. Catcalls erupted from the crowd, but Christy hardly heard them. She steeled herself from lunging across the ring and tackling Torrie to the ground.

The bell rung and all four eyed each other. Finally, Christy backed away to her spot. After Torrie made her way to her corner, the men circled each other.

John seemed to be ready to charge at any time, but he didn't. Instead, he waited until JBL did so, and side-stepped him, so the big man fell against the ropes. Before he could get himself straightened out, John was on him, raining blows to the back of his head. He stopped only when the referee pulled him off and even then his hands were trembling with the desire to hit him again.

While JBL was regaining his breath, John dared a quick look at Christy. Her hands were clutching the top rope so hard, her knuckles had turned white. Her face was contorted in worry, and at that moment her eyes widened.

John reacted a second too late. He felt his head snap back as JBL landed a hard right. Then came a left. And another right. John swung blindly, connecting with a right fist of his own. Before he knew what was going on, he found himself on his back, staring up at the lights, courtesy of a clothesline from hell.

He winced as he felt a hard kick to his left side. Rolling onto his stomach, he let out a gasp of pain when he felt another kick, now to his back.

"John, what the hell are you doing?"

John bit his lip as he heard Torrie's voice. Why didn't _she_ try coming out here and being stepped on by a three hundred pound jackass? He felt anger seeping into him as he got up. He was favoring his left side, but he paid it no mind as he gave one of his own clotheslines.

He squatted as he waited for JBL to get up and grabbed his hand to swing him into the ropes. John bent low, preparing to fling the man over his head as high as he could. What he got instead was a kick to the gut that sent him straight to his knees.

"Ohhh," he breathed painfully. He clutched his stomach to try dull the throbbing pain, but instead was driven down into the mat with an elbow to the back.

"Might as well give me that belt now boy, I'm gonna take it just like I took that redhead in_ my _corner."

John hissed in a breath as he felt his temper rise. Casting JBL's hands aside, he swung his fist and connected. JBL's eyes widened in surprise at his sudden display of strength. John reached out and flung him against the ropes. Just as JBL was rebounding, John hooked his arm under JBL's and performed a hip toss. He grimaced as he too hit the ground harder than he expected but got up again. Hearing the crowd get louder, he waited for JBL to come at him again to do a spin out power bomb, hoping to finish the match quickly. But JBL scampered away from him, well aware of his intentions. Before John could get to him, he heard the sound of two hands connecting.

The tag had been made.

(X X X)

Randy Orton lip's turned down faintly as he looked at his reflection. Damn tie wouldn't stay in place. He gave an annoyed sigh as he untied the whole thing and started again. He smirked as he finally finished and looked down at his watch. She was late.

He turned back to the mirror and ran a hand through his hair. Damn he was hot. He let out a low laugh at this. He knew how vain that sounded, but he was telling the truth wasn't he? His eyes flitted to his watch again, and he frowned. He shouldn't be kept waiting. He wasn't a very patient man, and he expected schedules to be made to accommodate him.

A knock was heard as he was about to pick up the phone to find out where she was. Instead, he slipped it into his pants pocket and opened the door.

"You're late," he stated tersely.

"Well what did you expect? You only gave me an hour to get ready."

Randy smirked as he draped an arm around her shoulder and shut the door behind them.

Stacy Keibler tensed at his touch. She didn't want to go. The last thing she wanted to do was get all dressed up and go out, but how could she refuse?

"Well, you clean up pretty quick," observed Randy, sweeping his eyes over her short blue dress. She had listened to his orders, he noted. He had told her to wear blue to match his shirt.

Stacy cleared her throat as a blush crept into her cheeks. She shouldn't feel flattered. His compliments were probably insincere anyways. Still, she couldn't help the flutter in her stomach as he rested his hand on the small of her back.

The elevator doors closed with a ding and Stacy leaned against the wall. She had never liked elevators. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she and her younger brother had gotten stuck in one when they went to visit their father's office and later found he was too busy screwing his secretary to know. Whatever the reason, she had always been reluctant to step into one.

She jerked back suddenly as Randy placed the flat of his hand against her abdomen.

"What are you doing?"

His only response was to chuckle and put his finger under her chin. Stacy held her breath as he leaned in towards her. How she would have loved to push him away. Away from her, from her friends, from her_ life_. But she found herself helpless as his lips took hers.

Randy let his other hand wander lower to grip her butt. She had a very nice ass. So full and firm. He twitched as he thought about her. Deepening the kiss, he let his hand skim down further to the hem of her dress. Sliding his hand under the soft material, he softly crept up her thigh.

She tried to pull away just then, but he held her prisoner against the wall. Taking her hair in his hand, he pressed against her lips harder. So she thought she could hurt him with words did she? Well, she would find out soon enough he could hurt her far worse then she could ever dream of hurting him.

Stacy made a noise in the back of the throat that was something between a moan and a whimper. She was scared of him, though she would never tell him to his face. She was scared of how little self restraint she had around him. How he could make her forget that she was doing something so wrong.

Randy's lips curved into a smile as he felt Stacy respond to him. It was a slight movement, her body folding into his, but he took notice. His fingers traced teasing circles against her thigh as she pressed against him. Summoning all his self-control, he pulled away abruptly, letting out a small laugh as she glared at him.

"Asshole," she muttered, trying to smooth her dress down and regain her breath.

"I thought you didn't like me?" he asked innocently.

"I don't," snapped Stacy combing her fingers through her hair. She stared upwards as she blocked out his presence. A hard task since she was well aware of the heat he provided so close to her. She breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator doors suddenly opened.

(x x x)

"Reservations under Orton."

The small man with a neat black mustache glanced down at the list and located the requested name.

"Party of two?" he inquired. Randy nodded listlessly as he looked around the swanky restaurant.

"You requested a booth, Mr. Orton?"

Randy's eyes flashed mischievously as he remembered that little detail. "Yeah."

Stacy shot him a confused look but followed him wordlessly when he guided her to their seat. With much satisfaction, Randy noted almost all eyes were on them. Which suited him just fine. He craved attention, in and out of the ring.

He let Stacy slid in first, and followed close behind, wrapping an arm around her waist when she tried to move further away.

"I want you close to me," he murmured.

Stacy lip curled in disgust as his hand rested heavily on her knee. What the hell was she doing here? She had planned on taking the day off from the world, and here she was now, being paraded around like some sort of trophy for Randy's own amusement. She thought about her rehearsed lines as she took a nervous sip of her water. She would tell him after they ate, she decided. A man with a full stomach was easier to deal with.

"That massage of yours really worked," he said softly. His voice caused Stacy's hairs to stand on end and she forced a cool expression on her face.

"I'm glad." She started when she felt his hand squeeze her knee and sweep along her thigh. "Could you please get your hand off me?"

Randy shook his head as he pretended to be engrossed in the menu. "I like where I have it now," he muttered. "But maybe I should put it somewhere warmer?"

Stacy gasped as she felt his finger brush against her. "Get your fucken hands off of me," she hissed under her breath. She grabbed his hand to pull it away, but he pushed her away.

"Don't make a scene babe." His hand slipped in further between her thigh. Stacy uttered a soft cry of defeat as he began to flick the pad of his thumb over her clit. She glanced at him to see he had a wide smile on his face. _Bastard_, she thought angrily. However, by now her mind had grown clouded. Her breathes were coming in sharply. She gripped the edge of the booth desperately, trying not to make a sound.

She almost dropped to the floor when he slid a finger into her. Her hips began to move in sync with his thrusts. Stacy bit her lip hard as she opened her legs further. She heard him chuckle in triumph, but she didn't care anymore.

Randy shifted slightly in his seat to go in deeper. To anyone else, it looked like they were just sitting close. But what was going on underneath the tablecloth would have surprised them all. He eased a second finger into her as he leaned over and whispered in her ear,

"Doesn't look like you hate me now."

Stacy barely registered what he said. She was biting her lip so hard she was surprised it wasn't bleeding. She buried her head against his neck to hide her face from anyone's eyes. Letting out a hot breath she whispered back,

"Appearances can be deceiving."

Randy suppressed a shudder at her husky voice. Her lips had brushed against his ear when she had spoken and it had sent a bolt of desire straight to his groin. He turned in his seat to face her and peeled one of hands off the edge of the seat. He placed it across the growing bulge in his pants and held her wrist tightly as she struggled to pull back.

"Tit for tat, Stace."

Stacy grimaced as his words were followed by a hard thrust of his fingers. Reluctantly, she placed her hand across him again. Randy leaned forward to kiss her neck lightly. "Right there baby," he whispered against her ear. His tongue flicked out and ran along her outer ear. Stacy swallowed hard to keep the moan inside. His fingers were starting to move faster. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his shoulder to hide her face. She didn't want him to know how much she was enjoying this.

"Are you ready to order?"

Randy's fingers pulled out so suddenly she almost fell again in shock.

The waiter raised a brow. "Are you feeling well miss?"

Stacy nodded. "Fine," she managed to choke out.

"It's okay honey," soothed Randy, smirking. "I'll order for you. She'll have the curried shrimp salad, no dressing, and I'll have the Braised Steak in Madeira."

Stacy glared at him while she pulled her skirt back down discreetly. As soon as the waiter was gone, she faced him.

"A salad?"

Randy shrugged as he took raised his glass to his lips. "Gotta keep you in shape babe."

Stacy stared at him with an indignant expression. "I can watch my figure myself," she snapped. She sighed as she looked down at her hands. She might as well get this over with already. She didn't know how much more she could take of his cocky attitude.

"I've come to a decision."

Randy eyes swept over her."And?"

Stacy licked her lips, uneasily. Her hands kept shaking and she preoccupied them by playing with the napkin. "I'm gonna tell them."

"Tell who what?"

Stacy sighed as she continued. "I'm gonna tell Trish and Greg. I cant be your little slut any longer," she said, gaining confidence with every word she spoke. "I cant just follow you around doing whatever you want for the rest of my life with that threat hanging over my head-"

"I was gonna get bored eventually," cut in Randy. He noted with satisfaction the shocked look on her face. Truth be told, he had no intention of letting Stacy go. But he couldn't let her know he had grown to like her body so much. He couldn't let her know how good it felt to be inside her. No, he had to act like he didn't give a damn.

"Well, good," retorted Stacy. "Because I'm telling them and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Randy's eyes flickered over her shoulder for a split second. He looked at her once again and leaned forward. "How bout one last kiss?" Before she could answer, he curved his hand around her neck and pulled her to him. He slipped his tongue in her mouth and noticed she hadn't struggled against him this time.

Stacy put her hands on his chest, but she couldn't bring herself to push him away. Damn it, he was a great kisser. And this might be the last time she had a chance to kiss him. She let his tongue roam her mouth before her conscience finally started to set in. She pushed him away suddenly.

That's when she noticed he was wearing that infamous smirk. But he wasn't looking at her. No, he was looking at something over her shoulder. Stacy felt a sense of dread before she even turned around.

There, standing with a look of hurt and shock on her normally pretty features, stood none other than Trish Stratus.

(X X X)

Christy froze for a minute before she realized she had been tagged in.

"Get in there!"

JBL's voice brought her back to reality and she ducked between the ropes, her whole body shaking. John stood looking at her steadily. He stepped back to allow Christy room to get in. The crowd cheered as she got in the ring. But there was only one person Christy could focus on in an arena filled with thousands.

"Tag her in."

Her voice came out calmer then she felt. Inside she was shaking. Her heart was beating so hard she was afraid he could hear it above the roar of the crowd. But she continued to stare into his eyes, unflinching.

Nodding slightly, John walked to Torrie's corner and made the tag. She ducked in between the ropes, but before she even had a chance to straighten herself out, she felt a hard dropkick to the chest, forcing her to back into the turnbuckle.

Christy rose to her feet as she noted in satisfaction that Torrie had doubled over. She stepped towards her and grabbed a handful of her hair, dragging her to the middle of the ring. Before she could do anything else, she felt a sharp pain in the stomach and found herself falling backwards as Torrie tackled her. She attempted to get up but found that Torrie was straddling her, hands already in her hair as she proceeded to bang her head against the canvas.

After what seemed like hours, the ref finally managed to pull Torrie off. Christy clutched her head in an attempt to relieve the pounding. She gasped in pain as she felt a hard kick to the stomach. She rolled to her side, but was only met with another kick. She attempted to get up but Torrie grabbed her head and pushed it back down as she stepped over Christy's head. Before she knew what she was doing, Torrie had taken her arms in her hands and was pulling up. Christy let out a sharp hiss of breath as she realized that Torrie was stepping on her hair. She struggled to get her arms free, but Torrie only pulled harder. Her hair felt like it was being torn out.

_Where the hell is the referee_? thought Christy desperately.

All of a sudden, Torrie let go. Christy held her head as she forced herself to get on her feet. She raised her hand as she saw Torrie coming at her and swung with all her might. A resounding slap was heard and Christy tackled her to the ground once more. She did the same as Torrie had done, intent on making her head throb just as much as hers was.

She felt the ref pull at her arm and she backed off. She lunged at Torrie once again but was met instead with a clothesline. Torrie circled her, trying to stand again on Christy's hair, but Christy swung her leg and hit her square on the head. Torrie stumbled away and Christy raised herself to her knees. She hit a hard right aimed at Torrie's sternum. Torrie reeled back but came at her again, and this time Christy was able to get to her feet. She hit another right, and was able to get a forearm across her face.

Christy stood apart for a minute to regain her breath and made the mistake of looking into his corner. His eyes were fixed squarely on her. His jaw was set, his blue eyes seeming to stare right through her.

She forced her eyes away and went to Torrie. Torrie was able to get shot in, which sent Christy back a couple of steps. Before she could react, she found her hair being pulled and led over to the turnbuckle. Her head was sent crashing in and she let out a low groan at the impact. Hardly knowing where she was, Christy felt herself being pulled away from the turnbuckle, and being slammed, back first, against the one diagonal from it. Shaking off her haze, Christy laid her arms across the two top ropes and jumped up just in time for her to avoid Torrie. Christy flipped over Torrie, wrapping her arms around her waist as she did so, performing the Sunset Flip. She saw the referee pound the canvas twice and as he was bringing his hand down to pound for the last time, Torrie jerked away, breaking the pin.

"Damn it," hissed Christy. She walked around behind Torrie, setting her up for the Twist of Fate. However, Torrie seemed to sense this was coming because she pulled away from her.

"Stupid bitch," Christy heard her say. Christy clenched her fists as she followed her, but it was too late. Torrie had tagged in John.

Not caring who the legal person was anymore, Christy rammed her whole body into Torrie's who was sent sprawling off the apron and to the ground. Christy was about to follow her out there, but she felt a pair of arms wrap around her and lift her away from the ropes. She struggled to get away, but they only tightened around her.

Suddenly, she lifted her feet to the top rope and pushed back hard, sending them both to the ground. Christy yanked the arms off and stood up quickly. John got up just as quickly and glared at her.

"Get him in here."

"Afraid I'll kick your ass?"

John snorted. "Yea, real scared," he said sarcastically. "Now get him in here," he commanded.

Christy gave him a defiant stare, but she went to her corner and tagged in JBL. The big man wasn't even given a chance to get in before he was pushed back to the ground. John stepped out after him, a look of fury in his eyes as he forced JBL to his feet only to send him crashing to the steel post, shoulder first. JBL let out a howl as he cradled his arm, but he wasn't given a chance to recover as John took his head once again and led him to the announce table. He hit head first, a loud thud accompanying the impact. JBL fell to his knees as his head started spinning.

John glanced up at the referee, debating whether or not to continue his attack on the outside. As he saw that the ref was counting them out, he rolled into the ring.

JBL saw his chance at once. With John's back turned for a brief second, he scrambled to get a chair. Keeping it low so no one would see it, he made his way to the ring. He couldn't care less if they got disqualified. The only thing that mattered was hurting that Cena kid.

The ref immediately spotted the chair and tried to wrench it out of JBL's hands. Intent on keeping a hold of it, he didn't see the John coming up behind him and hitting with a forearm to the back of the neck. The chair fell out of his hands as he turned around to give John a thumb to the eyes. John stumbled back into the corner as he held his eyes, trying to blink away the haziness. JBL caught the chair just as the ref was about to slide it out.

"I don't think so," he muttered under his breath.

Christy flinched as John landed in her corner. He shook his head as if to clear away cow webs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a gleam of steel. To her horror, she saw that JBL had the chair raised over his head, ready to bring it down on John's skull. Christy summoned up all her strength as she took John's arm and pulled him away from the corner. The chair bounced off the turnbuckle and almost his JBL in the head, but he caught himself in time.

"What the hell are you doing?" he roared.

"You cant hit him with that!" protested Christy. Before she had even finished her sentence, however, she saw JBL raise the chair over his head once more. Thinking fast, she reached in between the ropes and pushed John away. But she didn't move fast enough. She saw the light reflecting off the polished steel as it was brought down again. She attempted to step out of the way, but she heard the chair connecting long before she felt any pain.

The sickening thud of the chair echoed in her ears as she felt the whole arena close in and fade away into darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Nothing that I have written belongs to me. The characters are all property of the WWE.

_Well... finals are finally over, so this is a joyful post for me. Even better, the WWE has finally stopped being so predictable. I wont go into a full on rant here about all the events that have happened this week in wrestling. If you want my thoughts you can check out my profile. I just think this is worth repeating. I love that the belts have changed hands, especially in the case of the WWE Championship. I dont remember Cena looking as hot as he did this Monday when he was mad (I know, I know, but angry guys are **hot** to me). As for Batista, please hurry back. Please get better. And** please** kick the shit out of that idiot Mark Henry. Enjoy : )_

Christy smiled as she saw him. She sighed happily as his arms embraced her. She relaxed against him, feeling the entire world melt away under her feet.

"Did you break up with her?"

"Yea, baby, I did it." His answer rumbled in his chest and Christy could felt the vibrations of his words. She stood still as she heard the steady tattoo of his heart beating.

"So we can be happy now, right?"

He tightened his hold against her waist and she felt him nod. She closed her eyes. She had never felt more at peace. Swallowing hard, she felt herself tearing up. He had really done it. He had broken up with Torrie so they could be together. A small tear escaped as he slowly pulled back. His blue eyes shined back at her, a dimple showing as he smiled tenderly.

"Christy?" he asked, his voice seeming to come from far away.

"Yea?" her voice caught in her throat as his smile disappeared.

"Christy?"

"What?" asked Christy, confused.

"Christy!"

Christy felt him take her shoulders in his hands delicately. A sharp pain exploded in her right shoulder and she tried to jerk back, but she could hardly move her arm.

"Damn it!"

Christy's eyes opened slowly as she tried to grow accustomed to the harsh white lights. She let out soft a groan of pain as she tried to move her arm but a burning pain quelled her attempts.

"Hey Mark, she's awake," a voice called from her side. She turned her head to find John sitting on a chair next to her. Her breath stilled as he turned to her again. He seemed flustered to find her eyes trained on him but he returned her gaze until finally, she closed her eyes and looked away.

"Well, well, Christy. Aren't you the hero."

Christy gave a small smile as she saw Mark, the personal trainer, come into view. Although he was young, he had an extensive knowledge of medicine.

"What's wrong with her?" asked John impatiently.

"There is nothing _wrong _with her, John. And if you don't lower you're voice I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave," returned Mark calmly. While he was very gentle with his patients, the joke backstage was that he only liked you if you could show him an injury.

"What's wrong with her?" repeated John, tensely, though he did lower his voice .

"Her shoulder appears to have been separated." He held up the x-rays he must have taken while Christy was still unconscious and studied them. "It's not too serious, but it will put you out of action for at least two weeks."

Christy took all this in quietly, but John spoke up again. "What's she gonna have to do?"

Mark put the x-rays down and wheeled his chair to Christy's side, blocking John from view. He touched her lightly as if testing the waters. Christy winced, but didn't utter a sound. Mark nodded his head and pursed his lips. "Well, you are going to have to wear a sling," he informed her while ignoring John who was trying to peer over his shoulder at Christy. "And put an ice pack on the shoulder for fifteen minutes every four hours. You have a lot of inflammation around the joint and you'll have to take either Advil or Motrin. Also," he added, "inform me at once when the pain has subsided enough for you to be mobile. We'll want to start physical therapy quickly so you don't run the possibility of developing frozen shoulder."

"Frozen shoulder?" echoed John.

"The shoulder joint," started Mark calmly, still looking at Christy and ignoring John, which amused her greatly, "usually allows more movement than any other joint in the body. With shoulder separation, you run the risk of developing frozen shoulder if you don't follow your physical therapy diligently. Your shoulder will then become stiff and not allow the range of motion it used to. If that happens, it may take up to eighteen months to recover." He turned away from Christy to scribble something down on his notepad.

"Here," he said turning back and holding out a paper towards Christy. She reached for it with her left arm, cringing when she accidentally jarred her right shoulder. "I advise you get this medicine tonight or the pain won't let you sleep well. Remember to get some ice on that shoulder, the inflammation has to go down as soon as possible."

Christy sighed as she sat up slowly. John was at her side at once, taking her left arm and helping her hop off the raised bed. Christy slipped her arm away from him and ignored the look he shot her. She kept her eyes on the ground, walking slowly so as to not move her shoulder, which rested in a black sling.

"Mr. Cena," called Mark as they were almost out of the door. "It would be in her best interest if she limited the use of her shoulder these first few days, so I'm afraid you'll have to help her out quite a bit."

Christy blushed as she saw John nod and shut the door.

"I can probably ask Dawn to help," she muttered.

"You can," he conceded. "But you won't."

"I know how busy you are," started Christy, but she was interrupted.

"Doesn't matter how busy I am. It'd be pretty fucked up if I couldn't even help you after what you did for me."

"I didn't do it so you could feel like you owed me something."

John gripped her good arm lightly to stop her. "I know you didn't," he said softly. "But I want to help you get better." Before Christy could respond, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips. His tongue traced the curve of her top lip and left her wanting more when he pulled away.

"Torrie won't like it-"

"I'm not worried about Torrie now," he said quietly. "She seems to be doin' okay with her mom. In fact, I heard her talkin' to her last night an she aint even bring up the injury."

Christy warmed at the thought of John spending time with her. Not because he felt he had to, because he_ wanted _to.

"Thank you," she whispered, almost shyly.

John flashed her a smile, his dimple lighting up like in her dream.

(X X X)

Trish awoke with a start. She stirred from the warm bed, stretching her arms over her head. Sweeping her eyes over the dark room, her gaze focused on a big watch lying atop the drawer near her head. She bolted upright as she looked and saw a suit coat hanging from the back of a chair. This wasn't her room.

All of a sudden the events of last night crashed over her so hard, she fell back against the pillows.

Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered what had happened. She was relieved that she had talked to Stacy. They had left on a good note, and she had told Dave she was in a good mood. He had suggested they go out, his treat. How could she have possibly have known?

A tear rolled down her cheek and quivered on the tip of her chin before dropping.

Dave.

He had taken her back to his hotel room after everything. He had put himself between her and Stacy when Trish had been on the brink of giving Stacy a Chick Kick in the middle of the restaurant. He had let her ruin his silk shirt with her tears.

"Feeling any better?"

Trish's hands went to her face to wipe away the tears before she turned to the doorway.

"Fine," she answered. He raised a brow as he walked in and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You're a bad liar." He smiled as he took her hand and squeezed lightly.

Trish let out a short laugh. "I'm miserable," she said. "That better?"

Dave sighed as stood and motioned for her to do the same. Trish lifted the covers aside and stood only to find she was wearing one of his shirts. She gave him a puzzled look.

"You fell asleep in your clothes," he explained. "And I didn't want your dress to get wrinkled."

"So you undressed me?"

He chuckled lowly. "If you wanna look at it that way." He offered her his hand as he turned towards the door. "I made some breakfast if you're interested." He paused, as if embarrassed. "You don't have to eat it. I'm pretty sure I burned the bacon, and I don't think the eggs are supposed to be that runny, but if you don't want it we could go out."

Trish had to smile at the thought of Dave fussing breakfast. "I just have to use the bathroom first."

Trish closed the door quietly behind her as she looked over the small bathroom. Even in here it still smelled of Dave. His cologne was sitting on the sink, and his razor was tossed carelessly on top of a fresh white towel. It was a man's bathroom. No frills and unneeded items.

Her throat closed up as she fought back a cry of despair. Did Randy and Stacy share a room? How long had it been going on? Were they together right now?

The thought made her close her eyes tightly against the vision that rose before her. Stacy looked like she had been enjoying herself. She sure as hell didn't struggle while he was kissing her.

A tear slid down her cheek as she balled her hands into fists. How long had she known Stacy? She had thought they were good friends. She had told her_ everything_. They had laughed over all the diva search girls and had taken turns scaring them senseless with tales of Vince. They had mourned the loss of Molly Holly and Ivory, the greatest friends anyone could ever have and promised each other they would always keep in touch.

But what was going to happen now? She couldn't even think about Stacy without wanting to hit something. After _everything_ Trish had told her about Randy. How could she do this?

Trish turned the faucet on full blast and splashed cold water on her face. She had to pull it together. There was no choice. They were taping a show tomorrow and she had to impress. She caught sight of her red nose and puffy eyes. A soft sob escaped her. Any other time she was feeling like this, she had never hesitated to call Stacy. Who was she going to call now?

Concentrating on keeping her sobs low, she didn't even hear the door open. Pressing her palms against her wet eyes, she bit her lip. A pair of strong hands turned her around and once again, she found herself in the comforting arms of Dave Batista.

Unable to restrain herself, she buried her face in his shirt and let her tears go. His arms tightened around her protectively.

"Shhh, cry all you want Trish. I'm here for you."

(X X X)

She couldn't sleep.

Her brown eyes stared at the white ceiling as if it held the answers to all her problems. She had turned off the light long ago, hoping to eventually drift off, but it hadn't been that easy. She had done every trick in the book. Had drunk a warm glass of milk, herbal tea, hell, she had even tried counting sheep. But it was impossible.

Stacy rolled to her side. She had tried to call Trish on her cell phone all day, but she hadn't answered. And why should she? Trish had every right in the world to be mad at her. After the fourth message she had left, she got up enough courage to go to Trish's hotel room, but she hadn't answered her door either.

Swallowing hard, Stacy lay on her back again, her eyes focused on the ceiling tiles. What was she going to say tomorrow? Did anyone else know? She wrung her hands as she thought of the hate everyone would look at her with. Didn't all of them say she was the smart one? The one who hadn't fallen for Randy? And here she was now. The worst of all of them because she_ knew _what she was getting into. She_ knew _she was hurting a friend. But she had done it anyways.

But it was just so hard to say no to him. Her mouth twisted in anger as she reprimanded herself for even thinking that. After all he had put her through, she _still _missed his touch. Stacy would never admit this to him, but the few minutes of pleasure he gave her still burned in her mind, clear as ever.

A painful anger rose in her throat, almost choking her. This was all_ his _fault. Now she had lost a best friend because he had wanted some other slut to brag about. She could only imagine what Trish was thinking at this moment. Would she ever be able to forgive her?

Pushing the heavy covers aside, she made her way to the dark kitchen, not bothering to turn on a light. Maybe another glass of warm milk would do the trick.

(X X X)

"So here I am, shaving, right? And my mom comes in, an she starts screamin' at me. I'm like six though; I thought if I shaved I would grow a mustache and be grown up."

Christy giggled, reaching for another handful of popcorn. The movie played on the television, but they had stopped paying attention long ago.

"She starts panickin' cuz I cut myself a little, and she had the smart idea of putting alcohol on it." John winced, as if reliving the whole moment again. "I swear it felt like she lit my face on fire." He shook his head and reached into the previously full bowl. Finding only kernels left, he sighed. "Damn girl, this the second bowl you've finished."

Christy pouted, licking her salty fingers. "I'm hungry."

"I can see that." John reached to the low coffee table, and grabbed a carton of ice cream. "Want some?" Christy nodded eagerly as he lifted the lid. She opened her mouth obediently as he scooped up a small amount and headed for her mouth.

"Open wide for the choo-choo train."

Christy held the ice cream in her mouth, savoring the flavor. How he knew that cookies and cream was her favorite, she had no idea. But for the past few hours, John was giving her everything she could ever think of. He had rented 'chick flicks,' as he called them. Even though the guys at the video store had looked at him like he was 'queer.' He had brought a box of extra butter popcorn, which she had almost finished. He had even gotten her a get well soon card. Granted it was a picture of a monkey, but she thought it was cute nonetheless.

"I wanna thank you-"

"You don't have to," he interrupted, waving her off. "I'm actually having fun."

"Being my own personal servant is fun for you?"

"Yes ma'am."

Christy leaned back against the many pillows he had set up for her. "I think I'm in the mood for some fruit," she said, her voice teasing. "Maybe a little fruit salad? With yogurt on the side. Make sure the fruits are evenly proportioned too." She tried to hide a smile as she snapped her fingers at him.

John stood slowly, setting down the ice cream. "Fruit salad huh?"

Christy squealed as she felt a dollop of cool whipped cream land on her chest. John traced a big circle, his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile.

"Stop! You know I can't do anything to you!"

"Do ya want that fruit crap now?"

Christy huffed haughtily as she attempted to wipe the massive white blob off her chest with a tissue. But it was hopeless, it seemed he had let out all the can's contents on her.

"I can help you." Eyes gleaming mischievously, John leaned over to her and flicked his tongue over her chest. Christy giggled as she felt his tongue barely skim her.

"Tastes better than I thought," he remarked. He lowered his head again and Christy gasped as he licked her collarbone. She stayed as still as possible as he slowly licked her clean. She didn't want to risk moving her shoulder, but he was making it very hard.

"All done." He sat back down and grinned like a proud little schoolboy. Christy rolled her eyes, trying to look nonchalant.

"Good for you, what about my fruit salad?"

John's grin disappeared. "Aww, you were serious about that? I don't know how to make that fruity shit."

Christy sighed. "I guess you really don't care that much about me." She stroked her arm slowly, pretending to wince. His expression changed immediately and he shot up to make his way to the kitchen.

"Just toss a bunch of fruit together right? How hard can that be?" she heard him mumbling under his breath as he passed her.

Christy smirked. This was gonna be_ fun_.

(X X X)

Stacy Keibler had always been able to deal with the events life tossed her way.

Through her parents many fights and screamed accusations, she had remained calm. Sure, she had grown much more quiet and withdrawn, but it was normal for her to react like that. When her best friend of seven years had died in a drunken car crash, she had put up a guardrail around her heart. But again, it was a normal reaction.

She had been able to deal with most of the hurdles placed in her path. She knew deep inside that as much as she tried to deny the divorce and the death, there was nothing she could do about it. So she hadn't tried. She had straightened her shoulders and took what was given to her with a determined look in her eyes.

Eyes that were now cast downward, hoping no one would notice her. She clutched her gym bag so tight, she was afraid she would cut off the circulation to her fingers. But she couldn't help herself. When Victoria had tapped her on the shoulder to say hello, she had almost jumped out of her skin. When she had bumped into Chris Jericho in the hallway, she didn't even take a moment to roll her eyes when he told her he was free for some all night lovin'.

Her shoulders were hunched over, as she hurried to the woman's locker room. She was itching to take a hot shower. She had taken one right before coming, but she still felt dirty. Her eyes had lost their luster; there was no reason to make them shine now.

She reached the locker room, but the door swung open before she could twist the knob.

"Hi."

Candice Michelle offered a simple greeting as she stepped aside to let Stacy through. Her outfit was already intact, as was her makeup and hair. She was going on in the beginning of the show, after all, and she had to look her best.

Stacy barely nodded as she brushed past her. She heard the door shut and dropped her belongings in her locker. Sitting down on the plush couch, she began clearing her throat nervously. Any second now, Trish would walk through that door. And she had prepared. She knew exactly what she was going to say. She ended up only getting four hours of sleep, and she had plenty of time.

Just as she decided she should take that shower before, the door swung open again.

"Damn I'm hungry!"

Lita let out a deep breath of air as she tossed her bag across the bench that ran right in front of the lockers. Her smile faded as she caught sight of Stacy, staring at her like she had been sent down from another planet.

"What's up, Stace?"

Stacy forced a tight smile as she shook her head. "Nothing, nothing."

Lita eyed her warily. She and the leggy blond hadn't been the best of friends in the beginning, but now she liked to think they were pretty close. "Why do you look like crap then?"

"I don't look like crap," Stacy mumbled. Two people had told her she liked bad in the past two days. This was great for her self-esteem. "Do you know where Trish is?"

"I think I saw her and Dave get here together. Why don't you try his locker room?"

Stacy nodded as she got up. So it looked like Trish hadn't told anyone; yet. She waved goodbye to Lita as she tried to figure out which way Dave's locker room was.

"Need help?"

Stacy whirled around so quickly she almost lost her balance. She put a hand to her beating heart, which felt like it was about to jump out of her chest.

"Hunter!" she stammered, nervous at the way his eyes swept her entire body.

"Somethin' wrong?"

Stacy let out a nervous laugh. "No, no of course not. I-I was just looking for Dave. Do you know where he is?"

His smirk immediately turned into a frown. "What's with all you chicks and Dave? I just saw him with Trish and now_ you're_ looking for him?"

Stacy swallowed uneasily. She hoped she hadn't sparked any fires in Hunter. It was a well-known fact he hated the very ground Dave walked on.

"So…you don't know where he is?"

"He was near the cafeteria last time I saw him," he grunted.

Stacy nodded as she walked past him. She could still feel his eyes on her back until she had rounded the corner, and she let out an involuntary shiver. She always had the feeling he was planning something. Like he was always trying to look for something incriminating.

Her steps slowed as she came to the cafeteria. She glanced over the empty room, a sigh of relief almost escaping her. As much as she wanted to get this over with, she still didn't want to actually _do_ it.

Her eyes were drawn to a door on the left. Suddenly her breathing came a little quicker as her hands started twitching. She was in there. Somehow she knew Trish was in there. She pulled on the hem of her shirt for the hundredth time as she made her way over. That shirt must have been tugged to twice its size already.

She raised her hand to knock, but quickly snapped it back to her side. Hopelessness swelled inside her as she thought about what she had to do. Would Trish even want to talk to her? Trying hard to calm her nerves, she raised her hand again and knocked softly.

She heard voices inside, but she couldn't tell what they were saying. She bit her lip as she waited for someone to open the door. Were they doing this on purpose? She felt like she was going to throw up any minute now.

Stacy stepped back as the door opened.

"Stacy."

She cringed at the way he said her name. Dave looked bigger then she had ever remembered him. His suit was perfect as always, and his glasses hid his eyes, making him seem all the more formidable.

"Hey," Stacy finally said, embarrassed to find that her voice now resembled that of a five year old. She cleared her throat as she gestured inside. "Is Trish in there?"

Dave nodded, crossing his arms across his chest, faintly reminding Stacy of the bouncers at the clubs.

"Um… can I talk to her?"

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

Stacy felt like he had just punched the wind out of her. She had worked up the nerve to talk, and he wouldn't even let her come in!

"I really need to talk to her," she said meekly.

"You probably do," agreed Dave. "But I don't think right now is the best time."

Stacy closed her eyes for a second. "Dave, I really need to explain myself to Trish. I don't want to lose her friendship over this and I'm afraid if I wait any longer, I'll lose my nerve." Her words poured out before she could stop them.

Dave gave a slight nod. "None of this would have happened if you had just told her about you and Randy."

Stacy looked at him indignantly. "Me and Randy were never a couple if that's what you're implying," she said heatedly. "I want to do the right thing, but it's kinda hard when you're blocking the doorway."

"I don't think Trish wants to talk to you anyways."

Stacy clenched her teeth, trying hard not to scream. "If she doesn't want me to talk to her, then she can come out here and tell me."

"What do you want?"

All of the air seemed to evaporate out of Stacy's lungs as she heard a voice behind Dave. He stepped aside and Trish stood there, regarding Stacy like she had never seen her before in her life.

"Trish-"

"I'll be back in a second." Sending a small smile to Dave, she closed the door and crossed her arms across her chest just as Dave had done. "Talk."

"I'm so sorry!" burst out Stacy. "I never meant to hurt you, I mean, I didn't know you were there and-"

"What were you doing with him in that restaurant anyways?" interrupted Trish. "After you told me you just felt like going to sleep. Jeez, Stace, how many other times did you lie to me?"

"He wouldn't leave me alone!" cried Stacy. "He kept threatening to tell you and Greg that we… we slept together."

"Oh, yea," spat Trish sarcastically. "Finding out this way was_ so _much better."

"I was going to tell him it was over, but then you walked in. I couldn't deal with him anymore." Stacy blinked back tears as she stared at Trish, hoping to see any trace of sympathy. But the smaller blond wouldn't meet her eyes.

"I thought we were friends, Stacy. I never thought you would do something like this to me," she said softly. "Why?"

"I was stupid. I didn't know what I was doing. I mean, the first time we did it, I felt horrible, I swore to myself I wouldn't do it again," Stacy paused as she took a deep breath. "I thought that was the end, but we kept bumping into each other, and he wouldn't let me forget it. He told me he would tell everyone if I didn't do what he wanted me to."

"So you kept sleeping with him?"

Stacy nodded. "I told him I would if he didn't tell anyone. I don't know what I was thinking, I was stupid, I see that now. And I wish I could take it all back." She looked at Trish, who had taken all this in without showing an ounce of emotion.

"I wish you could take it all back too," Trish murmured. They stayed silent for a long time, the only sound the soft whir of the vending machine.

"Can I talk to you later?" Trish finally asked. Stacy nodded, happy the look of anger had at least disappeared.

"I'm not saying this is all okay," said Trish. "But I really need some time alone to think about all this."

Without waiting for an answer, she walked back into the room and shut the door.

(X X X)

"I said grilled! There's a difference between grilled and crispy, didn't somebody teach you this?"

The young woman stared back at her with wide eyes.

"I-I'm so sorry ma'am. I'll just take this back."

Torrie sneered at her. "Can you bring the manager? Maybe he didn't train you enough because you're doing a terrible job." The young woman looked on the verge of tears as she all but sprinted to the back.

Giving a loud sigh of frustration, she looked down at her nails. She had just gotten them done, but she wasn't happy. That stupid woman had done her French manicure slightly off on her left pinkie and it was bothering the hell out of her.

"I like assertive women." She glanced up at the man across from her, almost forgetting he was even there. He was a new face, that much she remembered.

"I keep forgetting what your name is," she stated, still finding faults with her nails.

"Ken Kennedy," he repeated, not the least put off. On the contrary, this ice queen act was actually making her seem more attractive.

"Yea, well I hope you didn't come here in hopes of screwing around or something like that." She didn't even have time to register the look of disappointment on his face. He only chewed on his gum harder.

"I don't have a lot of time to chit chat," she declared, flicking her hair over her shoulder. She caught sight of a couple sitting close at a bar, exchanging kisses every now and then.

"Get a damn room," she muttered disdainfully. There was a reason for her bitter mood. John hadn't come home until two in the morning last night, and when she had tried to start something, he had told her he was too tired. Imagine that! John Cena too tired for sex. She had always complained to him how he was too horny, and here he was now, turning her down because he was tired. Yea right, he had probably gotten some ass before. Probably with that slut.

Torrie had insisted John not go, but he had insisted he_ should _even harder. He owed it to Christy because she had taken a chair shot for him. Bullshit. She had probably done it to look a hero. But she wouldn't sit back and watch some broken armed bimbo take John from right under her nose.

Taking a sip of water, she regarded Kenny, or whatever his name was. He seemed like the perfect man for the job. He was new, eager to prove himself, and she had seen him staring at her like a dog in heat more than once. He looked like he could be easily manipulated, and that was exactly what she was counting on.

"Listen, you know me and John have been going out for about four months now. I have no plans on losing him to anyone any time soon, so this is where you come in." She lowered her voice, as if scared anyone would here her in the loud diner.

Ken willingly leaned in closer, smelling her perfume. Damn she was a bitch; and he loved it. She rested against her seat as she waited for him to say something. It was then that he realized she had just told him her whole plan, and he hadn't even been listening.

"Uh, could you tell me again?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Did I hire a retard?"

"No, I just… couldn't hear you very well."

She leaned over again to tell him and he found himself struggling to listen instead of losing himself in her ample cleavage.

"Yea," he said stupidly, "whatever you want."

Torrie smirked as she saw the scared waitress coming back with what she guessed wasthe manager. This day wasn't turning out to be so bad after all.

(X X X)

Stacy wandered to the cafeteria, absently picking a sandwich which now sat untouched on the table in front of her. She forced herself to take a bite, but it felt like cardboard. Taking a deep gulp of water, she pushed the sandwich away.

Was that even an improvement? Sure, Trish had agreed to hear her side of the story, and she didn't seem as mad as before when she had explained everything. But could she really say everything was all right?

Stacy spun the water bottle on the table as she analyzed her previous conversation. Why had Trish needed time to think? Would she suddenly decided she never wanted to see Stacy again? Her stomach churned at the thought of losing another friend. And would Dave come into the picture at all? He would definitely be close to Trish. Especially now since she was so vulnerable. But would he help her case or advise Trish to never speak to her again?

She didn't think it was possible for such a nice, quiet guy like Dave to say nasty things about her. Then again, she didn't think it was possible for him to hurt a fly but he showed just how dangerous he could be when he set foot in the ring.

She stood and threw the sandwich away. She would eat something later, she promised herself. She had barely eaten anything these last few days, and she was already sure it showed.

"Hey babe."

Her lips twisted into a scowl as she heard his voice from behind her.

"What do_ you _want?"

Randy only smirked as he shrugged carelessly. "Just wanted to say hi to my favorite fuck buddy."

"Hello and goodbye," spat Stacy walking away. She was stopped as he grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him.

"That's not a very nice way to greet a buddy," he reproached. He glanced at her loose shirt. "Been lettin' yourself go I see."

Stacy's previously dim eyes flashed as she shook his arm off with enough force to hurt herself.

"You know what? I don't give a flying fuck what you think I look like. I'm not here to try to impress you."

"Well if you're trying to impress someone else, I should tell you," he leaned close so she was able to feel his warmth. "I don't think he's gonna find you very attractive either."

Stacy pushed him away. Before he had a chance to protest, she brought her hand up. Her fingers closed into a tight fist as she threw her whole body into the punch. His eyes widened as he realized what she was going to do, but it was too late. The sound resounded through the empty hallway, and left Stacy with a satisfied feeling.

Until he turned to her.

"You little bitch," he snarled, practically foaming at the mouth. He brought his hand up to his cheek, which had turned a bright red by this point.

Stacy took a step back, but he only took her shoulders and slammed her back against the wall.

"I don't care who you think you are, but if you ever, and I mean_ ever_, think about hitting me again, I swear, I will_ hurt _you." His fingers pressed painfully against her as she tried not to look like scared. Her whole body was set to run, but he had pinned her to the wall.

She found her mouth opening of its own accord, and before she even had a chance to think about what she said, she heard the words slip out of her mouth.

"Fuck you."

His lips curled into a snarl as he suddenly closed the space between them. He pressed his lips against hers, but he wasn't trying to kiss her. No, he seemed intent on punishing her with his mouth.

His lips were pressed so hard against hers, Stacy struggled to breath. His tongue was shoved in her mouth, and his teeth were latched onto her bottom lip. She tasted the distinct flavor of blood from his less than gentle approach. She began to scream at him to get away, but the sounds were lost in his mouth.

All of a sudden, he was off her. Stacy heard a voice demand what was going on, but she was desperately trying to regain her breath. It wasn't until she picked up the slight accent that she looked up.

Greg stood, breathing heavily, his eyes boring into Randy. She had never seen him this mad. She could see that every muscle was tense, and he looked ready to lunge at Randy any second now.

"Greg," she called out breathlessly. Before anything could happen, she stepped in between the two men, not caring if she was in danger. All she knew was that she had to get Greg out of there; fast.

"Are you okay?"

Stacy nodded, fervently. "I'm fine-"

"She's more than fine," she heard Randy say. "She was fucking me three days ago, she should be pretty happy right now."

Stacy gritted her teeth as she turned around. "_Shut up_."

"Aren't you gonna tell him Stacy? Aren't you gonna tell everyone how we we've been having sex these last couple of weeks? Don't tell me you forgot about it." He smiled, and at that moment, Stacy would have liked nothing more than to knock him out.

"You slept with him?" Stacy turned back to Greg, who had such a deep look of hurt in his eyes, she wanted to cry.

"Its not like that," she said desperately. She reached for him but he only stepped back, shaking his head.

"Sorry I interrupted, just thought you were in trouble." He turned his back without saying another word and walked away.

Stacy watched his receding back with a growing lump in her throat. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Everything that had happened. Trish finding out, and now Greg. A wrenching sob forced its way out of her throat as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Don't cry about this, he was gonna find out eventually." Her whole body snapped taut as she realized he was still behind her. She turned to him, fire blazing in her very soul.

"You're sick," she said with so much passion her whole body shook. "You're the worst piece of shit that ever walked this earth." Her fists were clenched at her side now, and he took a step back, cautious she would try to hit him. But she stood rooted to her spot.

She opened her mouth to say something, but a sob seemed to take over her entire body. She composed herself long enough to give him a glare. If looks could kill, Randy Orton would have been dead three times over.

"This is all fun and games to you," she screamed. "Well, I'm losing my friends for your sick amusement and I'm tired of it!" She took a deep breath, ready to walk away from him. She turned around to look him dead in the eye one last time.

"I hate you so much," she started, surprisingly calm. "If I _never_ saw you again in my entire life, I'd die a happy woman."

Randy stood staring at her in shock as she walked away. She couldn't possibly mean that, could she?

After a few minutes, he shook his head, determined not to let her words get to him. He didn't care if he ever saw Stacy again in his life either.

Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he'd believe it.


	10. Chapter 10

_Ta da! I'm a working woman now, hence the long time it took for this to be up. Enjoy : )_

The leggy blond grunted in effort as she forced her legs up for one last lift. Being at the gym since seven in the morning was finally taking its toll on her. Her fingers wrapped around the slick stabilizing bars as she slowly let her legs come back down. There. She had done enough reps to last her the rest of the week.

She lay there awhile, struggling to control her erratic breathing. Her eyes closed tightly as she concentrated on taking deep breathes. She almost laughed aloud. Concentrating on breathing? It seemed almost ridiculous, but as she attempted to raise herself up on her elbows, a sudden wave of nausea sent her back down.

"Okay… okay," she whispered, reaching for her water bottle on the ground. She gave a loud sigh of frustration as she discovered it was now empty. After a couple of minutes of labored breathing, she hoisted herself up on her elbows again. No nausea this time, only a slight twinge of pain in her forehead. She swung her legs to the floor and stood shakily.

She ignored the lustful glances she received from most of the men working out. Inadvertently, she quickened her pace, breathing a sigh of relief only when she closed the door to the women's locker room.

Collapsing on the hard bench, she put her head in between her hands and fought to control the feelings of despair gnawing at her. These past few days had been hell. Now she would have to put on the sweet face everyone was accustomed to in only two more days. Ever since that Monday, when Greg had caught her and Randy, things had deteriorated.

Trish had still not spoken to her. And Stacy was terrified of calling only to confirm that she never wanted to speak to her again. Still, it was making her restless to have to keep waiting for her response. And then there was Greg.

Cruel fate had them scheduled for a match right after their confrontation. He hadn't even looked at her. Rosey had sensed something was wrong, but when he asked Greg, his only words were a bitter, "There are too many liars in this company."

Stacy lifted her head as hot tears burned her eyes. How had her life taken such a horrible turn in just a couple of weeks? Her eyes skimmed the locker room, where two girls were conversing loudly about their plans for the night. How she missed that. She and Trish had been able to talk about everything, and now she could barely stand the thought of calling her.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she rummaged through her bag. Barely aware of what she picked out, she made her way to the showers.

(X X X)

He raised his arm to check his watch for what seemed like the umpteenth time. As much as he tried, he wasn't a patient man. His other hand tightly clutched a small bottle. A bottle that held immense importance and the power to get him laid. His body involuntarily twitched as he thought of her. She didn't smile, that was one of the first things he'd noticed about her. No, her lips were usually found in a frown or a sneer.

His back pressed against the wall as he heard a door open. Was that them? Yes, he could hear his accent and her higher pitched giggle. He dared a quick peek around the corner and found his arm casually slung around her waist. He shook his head in disgust. That idiot. He had something so much better in his hotel room, but instead,_ he _was the one that would be hitting it tonight.

Waiting for the bell of the elevator, he looked around the corner again to find the hallway empty. Counting slowly to ten, he stepped out of the shadows and made his way nonchalantly to the room. He slipped his hand into his pocket and dug out the keycard she had given him. He didn't know how she had managed to get it, but that only fueled his admiration for her.

Easing the door open, he stepped inside.

(X X X)

Trish wrapped the sweater around herself tighter. She let out a deep breath watching as it disappeared into the chilly afternoon. Her fingers were already starting to feel numb and she was sure her nose could give Rudolph a run for his money. But she couldn't go in. For the past few days, her insides felt like they were being torn in two. She couldn't even count how many times she had picked up the phone to call Stacy when she had suddenly dropped it back into its cradle.

She buried her nose in the warm folds of the sweater. It smelled of Dave. Everything smelled of Dave. She wondered why she even bothered getting a hotel room of her own anymore. More likely than not, she would end up in his room or he at hers. There was nothing wrong with that. In fact, she was starting to have strong feelings for him. But she was hesitant to act on them. How did she know she just didn't appreciate him for being there for her in her time of need?

She was startled out of her thoughts as a car horn blared across the street. She had been doing a lot of that lately, drifting in and out of reality. But anywhere was better than here. Reality held such pain for her.

Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. The sun was setting. It was quite beautiful, but she couldn't let herself admire such beauty when she had so much pulling at her thoughts. The only thing she knew for sure was that she needed to be alone right now. As sweet as Dave had been, he was far too great of a listener. She talked and talked and talked until her voice became hoarse. But he would only nod and regard her with a profound interest. She had found this flattering at first; no guy had ever listened to her without taking a quick break to ogle her breasts. But after a while, she wanted an opinion.

He knew practically everything about her. How she had gotten that scar on her ankle, why she rarely kept in touch with her family, and even when she had had her first kiss. But he was always so quiet. This was what made him so attractive at times, and unbearable at others. She loved the mystery that seemed to surround Dave Batista. But she wanted to know more.

She took another deep breath, the cold air stinging the back of her throat. He had gone out with Ric, and Lita had arranged to take her out for a night on the town in a couple of hours. Lita didn't know. Neither did anyone else. And she had every intention of keeping it that way. As hurt as she was by Stacy's betrayal, she would never go and snitch.

Rubbing her arms, she stood slowly. Might as well go back inside. Taking one last look out into the darkening sky, she slid the door shut.

(X X X)

Christy pulled back slowly as she let out a content sigh. Her lips were swollen from his kisses and her hair was tousled from his hands, but she felt better than she had in a long time.

John returned her smile. His hand rested on her thigh as she settled against him. The lake seemed to shine just for her as the setting sun illuminated it a beautiful array of colors.

"Want my hoodie?"

She nodded as she noticed the wind getting cooler. When had that happened? When they had gone to the theater it had been pleasantly warm, and now the wind held a bite. She straightened as he tugged the hoodie over her, wincing slightly as she lifted her arm. The sling was gone now, but it was still a bitch to move. Starting her physical therapy yesterday was great according to Mark, but now she was annoyingly sore.

"How'd it go yesterday?"

Christy smiled. John had taken his role of servitude very seriously. She almost felt bad making him do so many trivial things. But she_ did _enjoy teasing him. Like when she had told him to run hot water for a shower and then asked if he could help undress her.

On the other hand, it was frustrating as hell. Whenever things had started getting hot and heavy, she would somehow jerk her arm and end up in pain. It had been frustrating for him too. As he so politely put it, he had left her room more than once with "_Very _blue balls."

"Fine. Mark is such a sweetheart."

"Yea, but I hear he's married."

Christy rolled her eyes. She held no romantic interest in Mark whatsoever, but to John, if it had a penis, it was competition. She found it funny. After all, no guy had ever been as protective of her as John. At first, she had remembered that the jealous ones were insecure, but she found that difficult to believe in his case. Every time they went out he encountered a very loud, very eager fan; almost always female. They weren't that bad looking either. Then again, she was surprised if John could even see their faces as they would practically shove their breasts in his face. He would always comply with the autographs and pictures, and then he would turn to Christy and make a little comment that would usually get him a smack on the arm. So he always had plenty of options.

No, John wasn't the insecure type of jealous. He was the kind of jealous that made her feel warm inside. The kind that made her laugh and remind her she would be foolish to try to find another quite like him.

"I hear he's getting a divorce," said Christy, hiding a smirk.

"I hear he's gay," countered John, raising a brow as if to say, "what now?"

"You know he's not gay," reprimanded Christy. "Nice try though."

He captured her lips in an impulsive kiss. His hand slid to her lower back as he brought her closer to him.

"Can't help it, you got real sweet lips," he said when he pulled away.

Christy gave him a wicked look. "If you think_ these _lips are sweet…"

John pulled her close, whispering in her ear, "dirty girl."

They were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Looking up, they saw a woman, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

"Uh, are you John Cena?"

"The one and only."

"Sorry to intrude," she paused, flashing them an embarrassed smile. "But see, my little boy, he wanted an autograph."

John chuckled as he looked behind her to the young boy hiding. "What's your name?"

"Jason," came the soft reply. Christy watched as he slowly emerged from view. His hair was a mop of curls and he couldn't have been more than six years old.

"Aw, c'mon, am I that scary?" asked John. The little boy shook his head furiously, still keeping a death grip on his mother's hand.

"So why you hidin'?"

"Cuz you beat Big Show," he whispered. John grinned.

"Yea, I did kick that smelly giants butt, didn't I?" He coaxed a small smile from the little boy who nodded again. "So, you got something I can sign?"

"Mom!" He pulled on the woman's hand and she dug into her purse, bringing out an empty M&M's bag and pen.

"This is all I have."

The little boy raised himself on his tiptoes as he watched to make sure John was spelling his name right. "The first letter of my name starts with a J just like yours," he said proudly. John nodded his head as if surprised.

"There you go," said John. "Anything else I can get ya?"

Jason paused. "Well, my brother thinks she's really hot," he said motioning to Christy. "Can she sign this too?"

"As long as she doesn't put her phone number," joked John.

Christy smiled as she took the wrapper and signed it. "Does your brother think John's hot?"

He shook his head. "No, my sister thinks John is pretty."

John raised a brow. "Pretty? Sure she didn't say I was fine or somethin' like that?"

"No… she said you were very pretty," he confirmed.

"All right," his mother said, taking his hand once again. "Thank you both very much." They waved goodbye, Christy trying desperately not to laugh aloud.

"Don't say nothin'."

She bit her lip innocently. "What do you mean pretty boy?"

John looked at her sternly. "He must have gotten it mixed up; _I know _I'm not pretty."

"Well, I wouldn't say that," teased Christy. "You look awful pretty to me."

John's lips tightened in displeasure. "Christy…"

"In fact," said Christy, as if having a revelation. "You might be pretty enough to win the Miss America-"

Her words were hushed as he brought his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her in, kissing her hard. He bit her lip as he pulled away and looked at her in disapproval.

"All right," consented Christy, leaning against him. "I won't say anything else." She let her eyes drift shut as his arms enveloped her small frame. A strong gust of wind caused her to shiver and snuggle closer against him.

"We should get back." John laid a soft kiss to her temple. "Don't want you gettin' a cold."

"Do we have to?"

"Yes," he replied as if answering a child.

"All right," sighed Christy. "You'll stay with me though, right?"

He looked at his feet. "Well, see, Torrie kinda tricked me into joining her to go see this play later on tonight and…"

Christy looked away as she attempted to hide the disappointment. "What time?"

"Bout eight." He brightened slightly. "That means we still got a couple of hours left. I could do some real damage in just three hours ya know."

Christy rolled her eyes. "It'd probably only take you three minutes." She gasped as he swept her off her feet.

"That a challenge?"

Christy couldn't help but giggle. "Give me a week and I'll see what you're really made of."

John shook his head as he started walking down the winding path, Christy snug in his arms.

(x x x)

"Do you want anything?" called Christy as she opened the refrigerator door.

"Naw, I'm straight," answered John as he sprawled on the couch.

She reached in for a bottle of water when she noticed the tab was broken. Funny, she didn't remember opening it. She dismissed the thought as she raised the bottle to her lips and took a deep gulp.

She let out a deep sigh as she leaned against the counter. What kind of water was it? It tasted a bit strange… She took another sip and put the cap back on.

She raised herself on her tiptoes as she reached to the cabinets above her. She had a lot of junk food and she was determined to make John break his eating habits. She didn't think it was right that she ate everything in sight and he had to be so picky because he wanted to maintain his physique.

She really shouldn't be complaining though. He was a guy who took care of himself and she could appreciate the effort he put into it. After all, she was the one who got to reap the benefits of his well-maintained body.

A sudden wave of dizziness overcame her as she closed her eyes tightly. She looked at the gummy bears in her hand. Damn they were bright. She leaned against the counter, as she felt her heart speed up. She let out a deep breath. Was it getting hot in here?

Shaking her head, she turned back to the candy. An unexpected feeling of bliss overcame her. She wasn't hungry anymore. She opened the cabinet and shoved the food to the back. In fact, she felt like sprinting a marathon. Her lips curved upward as she made her way to John who was watching TV.

She reached out just in time to catch herself as she almost tripped.

"You alright?" Making his way to the kitchen, he encountered Christy, her hair sprawled everywhere as she nodded. She lifted her head but brought her hands to her eyes quickly.

"Turn off the lights!"

He gave her a strange look as he flicked the kitchen lights off. The room was illuminated only by the television in the other room. All of a sudden, he heard her giggling.

"What's so funny?"

Christy bit her lip as he came closer to her. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around him and thrust her hips into his crotch.

"You're_ sooo _hot." He noticed a slight slur in her voice, but before he could say anything, her lips were on him. She pried his mouth open and shot her tongue inside forcefully, all the while pushing her hips against him.

His surprise faded as he placed his hands on her hips and responded to her. She broke the kiss abruptly and went to his neck.

He gritted his teeth as she bit the sensitive skin. His fingers pressed into her waist as she continued. He was about to tell her to stop when she let her hand wander down and grip him hard.

Letting out a hiss of air he took her hand and moved out of her grasp.

"Damn, baby, I'm not made out of steel ya know."

Her only response was a soft moan as she pressed herself against him again. John ran his hand down her back. His expression turned puzzled. She seemed warm._ Too _warm.

"You feelin' alright?"

She didn't answer, instead reaching down to unbuckle his belt.

"Yo, babe, you sure you wanna do this now?" He took her arms and forced her to meet his eyes.

"You don't want to?" she asked, a hurt look flashing in her eyes.

"Naw, naw, I didn't mean that, all I'm sayin' is that, well, your arm is still-"

"You don't want me."

"You sure you alright?" asked John again. He went to take her in his arms but she pushed him away.

She let out a sob as tears appeared in her eyes. "You don't want me," she repeated, her words slow. She gritted her teeth as she shook her head.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Go away!" she yelled suddenly. She brought her hands to his chest to push him away but only succeeded in angering him. Before she could stop him, he took her hands and held them tightly.

"Did you take some medication or something?" he demanded. This was getting strange. Just a couple of minutes ago, she had been fine, but now she was acting like she was on drugs.

"Go," she repeated. She continued to grind her teeth. "You _never _wanted me, did you? Just go away. I don't care if you don't like me."

John's eyes narrowed. Something was definitely wrong here. If she could say that he never cared for her after all he had done these past few days, there was a problem.

"No, I don't care about you," he retorted. "After spending all this time with you, trying to get you better, I don't care. Do you_ think _about what the hell you're saying?"

Christy let out a loud sob as tears flooded her eyes. "Leave me alone John! Just go away." She wrenched her hands out of his grasp and stumbled away from him.

John watched her with a look of disbelief on his features. He caught her just as she was about to fall again.

She jumped out of his hold with so much force, he was stunned. "I want you out!" she screamed. Her whole body shook and he could see a fine sheen of sweat on her skin.

"Fine!" returned John just as loudly. His jaw tightened as he walked past her. If she wanted to act like a dumbass, that wasn't his problem.

"Next time you want somethin' done, don't come bitchin' to me." He slammed the door as he stalked away from her room.

(X X X)

Randy Orton wasn't feeling so good.

It wasn't that he was sick, physically he was fine. His head was clear, his stomach settled, nothing sore. No, it wasn't anything on the outside…

A growing feeling of discomfort kept pulsing throughout his entire body. He was lying on his back, his head propped up on a pillow as he watched Maria step back into her dress.

"They told me I would be doing interviews, but I havn't even gotten to interview the people I like!" His eyes closed at the sound of her high voice. Why did they ever give her a microphone ? It would have been so much better if they just put her in skimpy outfits and have her prance around the ring. Nooo, instead they had her_ talking_.

"I mean, all the guys I've interviewed are icky." She made a face. "Like Tajiri? I couldn't understand a word he said! And besides," she pouted, "he's not hot."

Randy rolled his eyes. Was that seriously all she cared about? Everytime she opened her mouth, she was talking shit about someone else. She also opened her mouth for some other things, but those times he didn't mind as much.

"Oh my God," she started dramatically. "What is up with Victoria's hair these days? I mean, it looks like a birds nest." She ran her fingers through her own hair. "I mean, if I were her, I would do everything possible to make myself look better."

Randy reached to retrieve his Rolex from the nightstand. It was already getting late and he had no intention of listening to Maria rag on all the women on the roster. He was abut to tell her to hurry up and get dressed when she said something else.

"And Stacy? I mean, I thought she was skinny before, but she looks like a skeloton now." She shrugged carelessly as she bent forward to retie her shoes. "She had a pretty nice butt before, but now she has no curves. And Candice told me she completely ignored her last time she tried to be nice to her. What a bitch."

"Can you get out already?" snapped Randy.

"All right baby." She smiled as she leaned down to place a kiss on his lips. He didn't respond and she pulled away, letting her fingers trail down his chest. "Call me if you get frisky during the night." She gave him a wink and flounced out of room.

Randy brought the back of his hand across his mouth harshly to wipe away her lipgloss. For some reason, everything about everyone was annoying him. Last time he was with Candice, the way she would moan resembled nails on a chalkboard. Now, Maria's touch would almost make him cringe. And that one girl he had slept with three days ago, what was her name again? Monica? Marilyn? Whatever her name was, he had been tempted to ask if she had ever heard of doing squats to tighten her ass.

He ran a hand through his already messy hair. It hadn't helped that Maria had been tugging on it just a couple minutes before. But he didn't feel like doing anything about it. He settled deeper on the bed. Maybe all he needed was a good nights rest.

No, his head was too jumbled. For the strangest reasons, he had been thinking about the most random things. Like yesterday, just as he was attempting to fall asleep, he had remembered Charlene.

When he had been a sophmore in high school, he had made out with her, promising not to tell anyone about it. The next day he had bragged to anyone who would listen about how she had practically begged him to fuck her. She had transferred schools the following week.

But why was he remembering all this now? What the hell did Charlene have to do with anything in his present? His blue eyes fluttered shut as he let out a low growl. He wasn't used to not being in control. If there was one thing Randy Orton needed, it was control. Over everything and everyone. It had been that way for a while, and he didn't want anything to change.

The suns rays shone in his eyes, making him turn away. His entire body was itching.

"Fuck," he snarled under his breath, getting up. If he stayed here any longer, he was going to explode. He turned on the bathroom lights as he reached in to start the water. Suddenly, he could smell Maria all over him. Her sweet perfume seemed to invade his lungs and he had an indescribable urge to wash her off.

(X X X)

Her head nodded slowly as she heard him describe his actions.

"So I went in after they left and put it in everything." He was trying desperately to control the impulse to fling her on her back and take what she had promised. But she had insisted on going over everything in painstaking detail.

"What do you mean, everything? Like what?" Her lips twisted into a scowl. "I don't want a damn summary, I want it_ all_."

"I put it in all the beverages I could find. Orange juice, water bottles, and this weird organic crap she had." His eyes swept over her skimpy attire. Her breasts were overflowing from her small tank top and he had to sit on his hands to keep from tearing it off her.

"Okay," she said thoughtfully. "Are you sure no one saw you?"

He shook his head. "There was no one in the hallway when I went in and no one when I came out."

She nodded slowly, her foot tapping on the carpeting. "So you're sure this stuff is effective?"

"Yes, I got it from a friend who knows this stuff inside out. She'll be fucked up for at least four hours. And it might even go longer than that."

Torrie let a small smirk arise in her features. As long as he was sure no one would see him, everything was going as planned. Her eyes returned to the man sitting in front of her, his expression one she knew well.

"You wanna do it now?" Her voice was bored, already knowing the answer. She was surprised he could sit still with all the panting he was doing.

"Yea," he replied quickly.

She raised a brow disdainfully. Looking down at his impatient expression, she rolled her eyes. "Make it quick," she commanded. She lifted her arms to take her shirt off. He sprang up from his seat and stood in front of her.

"Listen, Ken," she started as he slid the skirt down her legs. "I don't want this getting around, so you need to keep your mouth shut." She cupped his chin and looked into his eyes. "Got that clear?"

He nodded, his fingers around her back to unclasp her bra. "Sure, whatever you say."

Torrie sighed as she took a seat on the couch.

"You want me on top or bottom?"

(X X X)

Randy looked impeccable. But that was to be expected, wasn't it?

He smoothed his hands over the button down shirt, making sure to leave the first few buttons unbuttoned. His reflection stared back at him in the mirror. He looked like he was ready to go out and have a great time. His lips turned down. What the hell was he dressing up for? He wasn't going to see anyone special.

He turned away from the mirror angrily. He didn't even know why he was going to Stacy's room in the first place. Or why he felt like he had to make an effort about his appearance. Even as he was thinking this, his eyes strayed to the mirror once again.

Finally, after making sure his collar was straight, he walked out, shutting the door quietly after him. He pocketed his keycard, heading for the elevator. He stuck his hands in his pockets as he waited. He was feeling nothing. It was a strange mood to be in. Neither excitement nor apprehension fit. There was no anger, no happiness. There was nothing. It was almost enough to scare him, but he had steeled himself against feeling any degree of fear.

He was jerked out of his thoughts as the door opened. Stepping inside, he ignored the older woman giving him a once over.

"Headed out?"

He gave a curt nod, hoping she would get the hint. He had never gotten into the habit of making small talk with women and he wasn't about to start now.

"In my day, we used to go out earlier." She gave him a stern look.

"Those times have passed," he muttered loud enough for her to hear.

"Well, I suppose you're right. But you only have yourself to blame when you get a disease. Or if you have a little rug rat running around. I remember my mother wouldn't let me go out with a boy past seven." She shook her head. "And now all the dates start at midnight. My daughter wanted to stay out late, but I never let her. And she turned out fine; she didn't get pregnant."

Thankfully, the bell rung at that moment.

Randy stepped out and looked back over his shoulder. He smirked cooly. "I use rubbers."

The women's eyes widened but before she could reprimand him, the doors closed.

Randy's eyes rolled at the thought of someone trying to teach him a valuable life lesson. He knew exactly what he was doing. If he ever wanted feedback, he would ask for it.

His hand rapped on the door as he reached her room. A slight feeling of something (anticipation?) twinged in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed it away as his face settled into the bored, condescending expression he had perfected over the years.

The knob jiggled and opened slowly. Randy's breath caught in his throat as he saw Stacy's eyes stare back at him.

"Yes?"

He regained his composure and answered with an air of arrogance. "Aren't you gonna invite me in?"

He could see the battle going on behind her eyes. Her shoulders slumped as she seemed to give up and stepped aside to let him in. He brushed past her, breathing in the sweet scent that always seemed to surround her.

He glanced around the room to see a small lamp lit up beside the couch. Walking over, he picked up the open book she must have been reading before he came.

"Green Mile?"

She nodded. She reached for the book, her fingers brushing softly against him. There went that damn twinge again. He pushed it away and raised a brow as she turned her back to him to set the book on the coffee table. Maria was right. She seemed a lot skinnier now. Her cropped shirt showed off her flat stomach, but it almost didn't seem healthy.

"You feeling alright?" He regretted the question as soon as it came out of his mouth. What did he care how she was feeling?

A flash of anger crossed her eyes, but disappeared quickly. Instead, she responded with a soft laugh. "I'm doing great. How 'bout you?" A note of bitterness hung in the air, but her eyes held none of the sharpness he was so used to seeing.

He shrugged. "Aw, you know. Doing alright I guess." His posture was relaxed, but inside he was taking notice of her every action. She nodded slightly, not meeting his eyes.

"Have you talked to Trish?" Once again, he should have bitten his tongue. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't care about anyone but himself.

Her lower lip seemed to tremble at the mention of Trish's name and he was afraid she was about to start crying, but she only shook her head.

"No," she said almost inaudibly. Without thinking, he stepped closer to her. She seemed to flinch, but stayed still. His hand reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear and she cleared her throat.

"I don't know why she's so mad," he murmured. "Its not like she didn't do the same thing."

She stepped back out of his grasp. She hugged herself as if cold and Randy couldn't help thinking how helpless she looked.

"That's not the point and you know it." She met his eyes for a split second before looking down. "Thanks to you and your dick my life isn't that great right now."

"You're not gonna start yelling about that again are you?"

Stacy let out a short laugh. "I don't have the energy Randy." She looked at him sadly. "I give up."

Her words seemed to strike a nerve. "Give up on what?" he asked almost angrily. "You need to tell her to stop making such a big deal about this. She's fucked me and a couple of other guys. Isn't it a bit hypocritical of her to get mad at you?"

Stacy stayed quiet. Her silence only fueled his growing anger.

"What the hell is so wrong? You had sex," his voice rose almost to a yell. "People have sex all the time." His hands gripped her arms to force her to meet his eyes.

She looked at him drearily. "I had sex with the guy who sleeps with girls to break their hearts."

His hands dropped. What could he say to that? He knew it was true. He had always been proud of his past. But at that moment, with Stacy's gaze seeming to look past him, he felt uncomfortable.

"I'm not apologizing for anything," he finally declared. She offered only a halfhearted shrug.

"I know you're not sorry for what you did." She let her fingers run down her arm softly. "So why did you come here?"

Her question threw him off guard. Truth be told, he didn't know himself why he came here. But her utter lack of emotion was making him livid. Where was the Stacy that had punched him just a couple of days ago? The Stacy that had yelled she didn't care if she ever saw him again? All that stood before him now was a soft-spoken blond who didn't care about anything.

He stepped close to her again and gripped her arms. Damn it, she was looking at him whether she liked it or not.

"So you don't care about anything?"

Her eyes shone with tears as she closed them momentarily. "What do you want from me?"

Her raspy voice sent a tremble from his fingertips straight to his gut. A sudden flash of cruelty coursed through his body as he tightened his hold on her.

"I already got what I wanted from you Stace."

She nodded slowly, not showing the least bit of anger at his malicious remark.

"Then leave me alone." Her face lifted to his as her eyes shined in earnest. "_Please _just leave me alone."

Her warm breath washed over him. Before he had a chance to think, his lips lowered to hers.

His tongue traced her lower lip slowly, as if asking for permission. She didn't pull away, but she didn't respond. Her body was still as he pulled her against his chest, his lips never leaving hers.

No words were spoken between them as he stepped back and lifted her shirt over her head. She was biting her bottom lip and looking away into the distance, as if trying to imagine herself anywhere else but here.

Her vacant attitude only served to increase his desire to make her respond to him. No woman had ever been bored with him before; Stacy wouldn't be the first.

The dim light cast by the lamp was soft enough to hide the dark circles under her eyes. It was enough to hide the hurt and despair only partly masked. The light only accentuated her body, now clad only in a pair of baggy sweatpants and bra.

"Stacy." His breath came hoarsely. His hands gripped her waist tightly, reveling in her small whimper of pain. His fingers only tightened as he pulled her against him to feel exactly what she did to him.

"See?" he said against her ear. "Look at what you do to me Stace. And you expect me to give a damn about the other girls?" He snorted. "No chance in hell."

Her only response was a stifled sob as she buried her head against his neck. His fingers tangled in her hair as he jerked her back to expose her neck to him. He began to suck hard, knowing the kind of marks he would leave behind.

"Stop," she pleaded softly. Her eyes closed tightly as tears squeezed out. "Randy, please?"

A fire blazed inside him. He didn't answer her. Instead, he turned her around, her back resting against his chest. Gripping her thighs, he began to walk, forcing her stumble in front of him.

"If you don't want to do this," he whispered in her ear. He paused as his hand went inside her sweatpants, underneath her panties. "Why are you so wet?" A triumphant smirk crossed his face as he reached the foot of her bed. He took her shoulders and forced her down.

Stacy gritted her teeth as hard as she could to restrain the cry of despair bubbling inside her. Her stomach fluttered as she felt him placing soft kisses along her abdomen. Without wanting to, she felt herself squirming.

Another smirk crossed his face as Randy ran his hand lightly over her. His hand traced along her neck, down her collarbone, brushing against her bra. They went further down, to gently nudge her sweatpants lower. Her hips lifted as he slid them down her long legs, his groin tightening with every passing second.

He lowered himself on his elbows, placing his body right over her. Her eyes were still closed tightly. He almost wanted to tell her to open them, but for some reason, words didn't seem right at the moment. So he kept his mouth shut, opening it only to place kisses along her entire body. He sucked more gently now on her collarbone. The marks he had made were already there, almost glaring at him so as to make him feel guilty.

He rested his weight on one arm as his other went to quickly untie his belt. He slid his pants and boxers down his legs enough to free himself. He was throbbing by now, and he was sure it showed. He hooked his finger into her panties and slid them down only far enough so he could do what he needed to do.

He entered her gradually, almost slowly enough to drive him insane, but it felt so good at the same time. He rested inside her for a minute, thriving on her warm walls wrapped so deliciously around him. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled back and thrust into her.

A loud sigh escaped him as he thrust into her again. Her back arched as her hips met his thrusts eagerly. Her eyes where still closed, however. It somehow took away from the pleasure, but he forced himself to push the thought away. What the hell did he care if her eyes were closed or not? He was getting exactly what he wanted right here wasn't he?

A trickle of fury seemed to take hold of him slowly as he increased his pace. In the dim light the setting sun provided, he could see her face wet with tears. He grunted as he thrust harder. His hands gripped her hips as he pushed harder against her. She only released a faint moan. Randy's fingers dug into her skin as he pulled her closer.

He felt himself building up as he bit his bottom lip. She threw her head back as she let out a moan that sent shivers up and down his spine. Her walls tightened around him as he suddenly came. Exhaustion took over him as he fell at her side, breathing hard.

His eyes closed as he heard her. She had turned her back to him, drawing her knees up to her chest. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye to find her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. A sudden sense of shame came upon his so suddenly, he felt like a noose was tightening around his neck.

He shot up, almost tripping with his pants still around his ankles. He bent down and pulled them up, fumbling desperately with the belt. The air suddenly felt thicker. After what seemed like hours, he managed to pull his pants on. As much as he tried to fight it, his eyes were dragged to Stacy's small body, curled up at the foot of the bed. Her soft sobs were gone now, and it almost seemed like she was sleeping. He resisted the urge to place a soft kiss to her temple; that would have been too much.

Instead, he turned his back on her and walked out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

(X X X)

Trish let out a frustrated sigh as she twisted around to look at the clock.

It was already half past. Her arms crossed across her chest as she leaned against the couch again. Her eyes glazed over as she stared listlessly at the figures on the screen. Her index finger pushed the small button and the screen went black. No use in wasting electricity if she held no interest in the program.

She twirled a lock of blond her around her finger. Dave was still out with Ric. Doing whatever guys did. At first, she had wanted him to go; she felt like she needed time alone. But now that she had had time alone with her thoughts, she thought she was going to go crazy. She had almost felt like screaming when he had told her in such a careless tone that he and Ric were going to stay out later then previously planned.

No, instead she had forced a sweet voice and said it was alright with her. She didn't actually have a right to tell him to come back. She wasn't his wife, and she didn't even know if he would consider her anything more than a close buddy whom he occasionally made out with.

Her small hands balled into fists as she pounded the pillow besides her. She hated brown anyways. Without even thinking about it, she hurled the pillow across the room. Damn Lita, she hadn't even called to tell her she was going to be late.

Finally deciding she couldn't take the silence, she put on her jacket and grabbed her purse. If Lita wasn't picking her up, then she would just go to_ her_ room.

She locked the door and slipped the keycard into her purse as she made her way to the elevator. Pressing the button, she continued twirling a strand of blonde hair around her finger.

Her stomach dropped when the elevator doors opened. Hesitantly, she stepped in, scooting as far away from him as possible.

She watched carefully. He hardly seemed to notice she was there.

"Trish."

She flinched at the sound of her name coming from his mouth. She hadn't talked to him in such a long time, and she never thought she would again.

"Randy."

He shook his head, still not looking at her. Her stomach was in knots and she had to grip the railing to make sure she wouldn't try to run out of the elevator.

"What are you gonna do?"

"What do you mean?"

Finally, his clear blue eyes rested on her. But there was something new about him. It almost seemed like he had aged. Not in appearance, hell, he looked as good as ever. But his smirk wasn't plastered on his face.

"You think you're gonna talk to Stacy anytime soon, you hypocrite?"

Her face paled at his words. "It's none of you business, you ho," she managed to retort.

His lips curled up in disgust as he turned away from her, as if suddenly deciding she wasn't worth his time. "You still think you have all the right to be mad at her don't you?" He didn't let her answer as he continued. "You fucked me too, Trish, so I don't see the problem." He turned back to her. "You of all people should know what a charmer I am."

"Shut up," said Trish lowly. She had hoped to never speak to him again. To have to talk about_ this_, in such a small place, was enough to make her want to scream every bad word in the dictionary at him.

The doors opened, and to her immense relief, he moved to step out. However, he placed his hand on the door to keep it open. His blue eyes bored into hers, until she felt like he could read her mind.

"You're fucking her up, Trish, and if you were really her friend, you would understand." He shook his head as he walked away.

Trish cleared her throat as she felt her face growing hotter. Why would he even talk to her about this? What possible reason did Randy have for talking to her about anything else except having more sex?

Her confusion still lingered as she walked out of the elevator and made her way to Lita's room. She had her hand poised to knock, when suddenly, Lita came barging out.

"Trish!"

"Lita!" Trish exclaimed, barely catching herself as she almost fell over. Lita took her hand to help steady her. "What's wrong?" asked Trish, suddenly noticing the worried expression on the redhead's face. Lita swallowed hard.

"I was about to go pick you up," she started. "And I thought maybe we should invite Stacy or something, cuz that girl looks like she hasn't eaten in months." Trish's shoulders stiffened at the mention of the other blonde's name. Lita, however,didn't seem to notice as she continued.

"So I went to her room, but the door was unlocked. I went in and I was calling her name, but she didn't answer. I was about to leave when I thought to look in the bedroom." Lita paused as she shook her head, a frown marring her features. "She looked asleep, so I tried to wake her up, ya know?" Trish nodded for her to continue.

"And she wouldn't wake up! I mean, I was yelling at her almost, and then I turned on the lights," Lita closed her eyes briefly before fixing Trish with a gaze that made her heart stop.

"Trish, she looked like she was dead or something. I called Vic, cuz her dad's a doctor, and she told me there was something wrong and-"

"Wait," interrupted Trish. "Where is she?"

Lita wrung her hands as she took a deep sigh.

"Stacy's in the hospital."


	11. Chapter 11

_Happy Valentine's Day! Although I don't think you're gonna find any love here. Lol, besides there's a much more important holiday coming up in just 6 more days... my birthday! Yes, yes, despite my mother's blatant denial, her little girl is growing up. Only one more year till I can 'legally' get a tattoo! Very excited about that, but I don't think it shows in this chap. Lot's of changes that will have an impact on the rest of the story, although I just noticed now it's a little shorter than the others. Nevertheless, enjoy : )_

"Do you want chocolate or vanilla, sweetheart?"

Stacy grinned as her mother leaned in as if sharing a top secret. "How about I give you both? No one else has to know."

Her eyes rolled as she scooped two large amounts of both flavors of ice cream on her plate without waiting for an answer.

"Mom, just because no one else finds out doesn't mean my body isn't gonna get the message."

"Oh Stacy," her mother chided. "You don't need to be on any ridiculous diet. Did that Luke boy tell you that you were fat?"

"No," she answered smoothly. "Luke thinks I look great, but I just want to tighten up for cheerleading tryouts." A slight throbbing started in the back of her head like a consistent drumming, but she ignored it as her father walked into the kitchen.

Wait, her father? Her parents had been divorced for a while now, what was_ he _doing here?

"You know I'm not entirely ecstatic about you starving yourself."

Stacy let out a strained laugh. "You know I'm not daddy." Everything about the setting told her something was off, but the only thing she felt was peace. For once, she didn't feel the pressure of the business.

"Stacy," her father said in a warning tone. "If you lose another pound, I assure you the wind will blow you around like a paper bag. I can't have that happening to my prettiest girl, can I?"

Stacy giggled as she pointed to the heaping bowl of ice cream before her. "How can I lose any weight when I have mom pumping all these calories into me?"

"Stace, are ya ready to go?"

A familiar voice sounded through the house as the front door slammed shut. Stacy's eyes widened as Sarah walked in, as if nothing had changed. As if she hadn't seen Stacy in more then ten years.

As if she hadn't died.

"Sarah?" Stacy managed to choke out. Sarah only gave her a bewildered look as she gave a quick kiss to Stacy's mother and a bright smile to her father. Both parents beamed at the young woman. Sarah had always known how to manipulate parents into thinking she was a perfect angel, when she was no such thing.

She had been the one who had introduced Stacy to the club scene before they were even legal. She had been the one who had first told Stacy of exactly how to position herself for the maximum amount of pleasure out of her orgasm.

She had been the one who had drunk too much one night, and paid dearly for it.

"What are you looking at me like I'm dead for?" asked Sarah. She grinned at Stacy, not seeming to be bothered by the incredulous look on the leggy blondes face.

"I've missed you so much," Stacy finally managed to say.

Sarah's eyes rolled. "Yea, I missed you too Stace, twenty-four hours is_ way _too long to be apart from you.

"Are you ready to go? I told Jesse I would meet him there in ten minutes and we're already late."

Stacy seemed to snap out of whatever haze she was in and smiled brightly. Her doubts and shock were gone. There was only happiness as she stood up. Pure and complete happiness.

"Love you guys," she called to her parents. But the pounding in her head was getting worse. Her knees buckled under her suddenly as she felt the whole world spinning out of control.

She hissed in a breath through clenched teeth as she forced her eyes open.

Her own reflection stared back at her, eyes hollow and dull. A sudden sense of deep loneliness washed over her, as she realized she was alone. Her attention was caught by a paper on the floor. She bent to retrieve it, knowing what it was almost immediately.

_Teen Girl Killed in Accident_

Sarah.

Stacy's eyes burned with tears as she flung the newspaper clipping away from her. She had memorized the whole short article. They treated it so lightly, she had been disgusted. Sarah's last picture was right next to an advertisement for _vacuums_.

Her gaze was arrested again at something else on the ground. Her fingers trembled as she picked up a photograph.

Her parents wedding picture. Her mom had looked so_ young_. As Stacy stared, a fine line appeared in the middle of her parents. Suddenly, the picture was ripped in two.

Stacy let out a wrenching sob as she stumbled away. She was alone. She had been alone ever since Sarah had died. Her parents divorce had only cemented her belief that no one cared for her anymore.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she raised her hands to her eyes, pressing hard to stop the flow of tears. No one could make this go away.

She had been alone throughout her relationship with Test and with Scott. And even with all her friends in the company; she was alone. No one understood how it felt to have to keep a perfect image while her life was falling apart, along with her belief in happiness.

What was happiness anyway?

(X X X)

Christy fingers clenched the rim tightly as she felt another strong wave of nausea pass throughout her entire body.

She lurched forward as more of the contents of her stomach spilled out into the toilet. What the hell was happening to her?

She had woken up to find herself sprawled on the living room couch alone, with a terrible headache. Her stomach had felt like a mini amusement park, and she had barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up.

"Shit," she sighed as she rested her forehead against her cold hand. Her whole body shivered uncontrollably.

Her knees started to ache from kneeling on the tile floor. She barely had time to move when another wave of nausea hit her like a freight train. Her whole body shook with convulsions as she tried desperately to keep her hair out of her face.

Where was John? Her eyes closed as she struggled to recall the events of the day before. The last thing she remembered was going in to the kitchen for some food.

She attempted to revert her breathing to that not of an erratic rabbit before trying to get up. She had to attend a taping tomorrow, but she felt like she had just been run over by a semi. Her legs wobbled as she stood to take a swig of water in her mouth to rinse out the bitter taste.

(X X X)

"Wait,_ what _happened to her?"

Trish Stratus closed her eyes, letting out a tired sigh. She pushed her hair behind her ear and looked up at the doctor, who was glancing at a chart in front of him.

"Miss Keibler was admitted yesterday." He shook his head, pursing his lips as if he went through this everyday. This only made Trish more frustrated. Did he think she hung out in hospitals just for fun?

"Do you have any idea if she's ever suffered from eating disorders?"

Trish shook her head numbly. If anything, Stacy ate more then her. "Why?"

"We checked her blood pressure, and sugar levels, and it seems she hasn't been eating very well these last couple of days." He shook his head as he quickly scanned Trish. "Do you work together with her?"

"Yes, we're…" Trish bite her lip. What were she and Stacy? Could they even be considered friends anymore? "What's wrong with her?" she repeated.

"Her blood pressure is relatively high. This might be caused by stress, and the fact that she hasn't been eating well. We can let her go tomorrow, but she needs to start taking care of herself." He paused as if thinking about his next words. "I realize you girls may feel the need to be perfect, but starving yourself isn't the way to do it. In fact, men prefer women with a little meat on their body."

Trish's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?" Realization struck her suddenly. "Do you think we're strippers or something?"

The doctor only shook his head and shrugged. "I didn't mean to insult you in anyway, but when she first came here, we thought she had overdosed."

"You can take your assumptions and shove them up your ass," snapped Trish. Her eyes narrowed. "Just take care of her and stop making judgments." Her throat tightened as he turned and walked away calmly.

She had never liked doctors. As much as her mother had tried to convince her they were nice people, she had always had the feeling that they felt like they were above everyone else. She didn't trust that the power they had over someone's life didn't get to their heads.

"What'd he say?"

Trish turned around to face Lita. The redhead held a steaming cup of what Trish guessed was coffee. She took it and gulped down the bitter liquid, not caring that it was burning the back of her throat. She made a face as she finished it.

"Ever hear of sugar?"

Lita rolled her eyes, gesturing in the direction the doctor had gone in. "What happened?"

Trish looked down, as if ashamed. "He said she hasn't been eating well, and she's under a lot of stress."

Lita sat down heavily. "I've been wanting to ask her why she's been so down lately." She raised her head and locked eyes with Trish. "Do you know what's wrong with her?"

Trish paused as she averted her gaze. Should she tell her? Hadn't she promised herself it was better to keep this all a secret? Her fingers tapped along the edge of the hard chair. She stood suddenly.

"She slept with him."

Trish's mouth snapped shut as soon as the words escaped from her mouth. Lita's brows went up in confusion. "Slept with who?"

Trish sighed. Her heart felt like it was about to jump out of her chest. Finally, she took a moment to close her eyes and think.

"Stacy slept with Randy. She told me she didn't want to, but we all know what a charmer that jackass is. So he blackmailed her and told her that if she didn't continue fucking him, he was going to tell everyone. She didn't want anyone to know so she did it, but I caught her one time and I got real pissed. I mean, what the hell? She knew how I felt about him. That's when all the stress started probably. And she hasn't been eating well because I told her that I would think about what to do with our friendship, but I guess I took_ too _long and now she's here"

Taking a deep breath, she tried to read Amy's reaction. To her astonishment, the redhead had a faint smile on her lips.

"That fucker," Trish heard her whisper.

"What?"

Lita started as if she just realized Trish was next to her. "You realize that fucker has screwed us all over at least once?"

Trish nodded, surprised that Lita wasn't yelling up a storm. She had never been known for her calm temper, and was often notorious for cursing up and down the halls if there was something not to her liking.

"Does he have a heart?"

Trish gave a bitter laugh. "Are you serious? If that man has a heart, its all for himself."

Lita nodded. "Do you think it feels good to do what he does?"

"Screwing around with no strings attached? Isn't that every man's dream?"

Lita shook her head. "No, I mean do you think it gives him pleasure to tell a girl that she was just a one night stand? To see the look of hurt and shame that passes through their eyes? To know that you just made a woman feel like a piece of garbage." Lita's hands balled into fists. "It must be intoxicating to have so much power."

Trish sat quietly. "I feel sorry for him."

Lita's eyes widened. "Why the hell would you feel sorry for that son of a bitch?"

Trish looked away, her arms wrapped around herself. Why was it so cold?

"Because, it feels good to fuck some random girl, but what's he gonna do when he gets older? That man isn't capable of loving anyone but himself. He'll be so alone."

"He deserves every piece of shit that's going to be tossed his way," Lita surmised. "Nothing can replace the feeling of comfort and security you have when you have someone you really adore next to you. You feel like you can take on the world."

Trish chuckled. "I hate it."

"Hate what?"

"That feeling of depending on someone. When your with that person, everything is good. Then he breaks your heart and leaves his mark just like the dog he is." Her lips twisted into a frown. "And you look back and all the shit you went through just shows you how weak you really are. All the sweet crap you said makes you want to throw up." She turned to look at Lita who was nodding. "I think I'm gonna be a lesbian from now on."

Lita rolled her eyes. "Join the club."

"How is she?"

Trish's eyes flickered up towards the deep voice.

Dave Batista looked huge compared to the small hospital staff that seemed to scurry out of his way.

A knot formed in Trish's stomach as she looked down quickly. The air seemed to disappear from her lungs and she had to take a couple of deep breaths before being able to talk. Lita was looking intently at her shoes, not knowing what to say or do.

"What are you doing here?"

Her question came off coldly, and Dave noticed. His hands were in his pockets, and his sunglasses reflected the fluorescent lights overhead.

"I'm here because I heard Stacy was in the hospital. And because you're here."

Trish snorted at his last comment. "I've been here all night. Did you just find out about it at the convenient hour of nine in the morning? By the way," she started, cocking her head to her side. "Did you have a good nights sleep? Because I got about two hours of sleep along with Lita."

Dave nodded as if expecting this.

"I would have come if you had called."

"Thought you were too busy with Ric," shot back Trish. A sense of ruthlessness had taken a hold of her tongue, and she was in no way willing to stop it.

"I'm here now, Trish. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Trish let out a harsh laugh. Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at her hands, clenched so tightly her knuckles were turning white. She relaxed them slowly, willing herself to calm down.

"You can go away."

Dave looked over her head at the view outside. He stayed quiet, not seeming to hear her.

Trish swallowed hard. His silence was only increasing her fury. She glanced at Lita, who was still intently looking at her shoes, visibly taken aback by the way Trish was speaking to Dave.

"You know where to find me."

Trish's head shot up. That was it? He wasn't even curious as to her change in attitude? He didn't even care as to why she was acting like this?

"Just_ leave_," she hissed. Her body trembled with an anger she didn't think possible. Had it not been for the fact that Dave could easily hold her down with one hand, she would flung herself on him.

He turned to Lita, who was now as red as her hair. "Keep me updated on Stacy's condition." She gave a small nod, still not lifting her eyes from her shoes. Dave turned and walked away without a backwards glance.

"Are your shoes_ that _interesting?"

"I don't think he deserved that, Trish."

The small blond crossed her arms stubbornly.

"He wasn't here for me," she stated. "And I shouldn't need for him to be here." She turned suddenly to Lita. "Do you see what I mean? How weak am I? I cant even be alone for a couple of hours?" She scowled. "God, I'm so_ stupid_."

"You're not stupid," reproved Lita. "You're in a fucken hospital, Trish. Even the strongest person in the world feels vulnerable in a hospital." She leaned in. "It's the coffee here, it makes you feel like death is around the corner or something."

Trish couldn't help but smile. "Maybe if you had put sugar in my coffee I wouldn't be such a bitch."

Lita rolled her eyes. "You must never have had sugar in your life."

Trish sat back in her seat, glad she could hold a conversation without wanting to hit something. "You wont tell anyone will you?"

"No. I think Stacy's feeling the effects of what that asshole did. And you should do whatever you feel you need to do."

"Yea," Trish muttered under her breath. "If I ever doubted Stacy's friendship because she slept with him, I know that she cares enough about it now."

"I gotta pee," announced Lita. "That coffee also makes you wanna go to the bathroom a lot."

Trish chuckled as she saw the redhead sprint to the nearest bathroom.

Everything would be okay now. There was no reason for her to think otherwise.

(X X X)

The buxom blond almost giggled with glee at the somber faces around her. She bit her lip to keep from bursting out into a fit of giggles, instead smoothing her skirt down.

"Are you sure those are the signs?"

Her attention was grabbed by the question directed at her and she forced a concerned look on her features.

"Yes, my, uh, friend did it when we were back in high school, and I know exactly what I'm talking about."

Truth be told, she had no idea of the information that was coming out of her mouth. She had merely memorized what Ken had told her, and from John's eager acceptance, it seemed good enough.

Torrie gave a small smile as she mentally ran over the events that had happened in such a short while.

She had gone to eat alone, and to her utter delight, she had found Christy there, looking worse than usual. When she had gone up to her cheerfully, Christy had only mumbled a hello. Dawn Marie had joined them a few minutes later, a confused expression on her face as to Christy's attitude.

It had been so simple.

Dawn was a natural chatterbox. Getting information from her had been easier then trying to give a gold belt to Hunter. The brunette had readily agreed to meet with her and after prodding lightly as to Christy's behavior, Torrie had planted a seed of suspicion.

_"Sometimes people think that drugs will make their pain go away. It's only natural she would gravitate to using them now during her injury."_

_"Do you really think so?"_

_Torrie forced a straight face. "Oh yeah, people who are unhappy with themselves take them all the time to try to block out the harsh reality that is their life._

_"You need to tell someone, Dawn. It really sounds like that's what she's doing. And you heard Vince's opinion about his stars taking drugs. If she tells him voluntarily, maybe the consequences wont be so bad."_

_"But I don't even know if she's taking any!" exclaimed Dawn, exasperated._

_"If she's not, then she wont mind taking a drug test." Torrie smirked as Dawn bit her lip. _

_"Should I tell Teddy?"_

_Torrie nodded empathetically. "Absolutely. I think John told me something about her acting weird, maybe he should be there too."_

And here they were. Teddy, John, and her. Dawn was away getting Christy. In a little while, Christy was about to find out why she should never have gotten involved with a man Torrie had claimed.

(X X X)

Stacy's eyes held a glazed appearance as she stared at the ceiling tiles. The last time she had stared at the ceiling, she had been in the midst of a powerful orgasm.

Her chest rose and fell slowly, as she gripped the blankets around her. Her face remained expressionless as she thought about the man that had single handedly ruined her friendship with Trish.

He had done more than that. He had shown her how stupid love really was. There was only lust. And lust was perhaps more powerful then love could ever be. After all, what was love if not a heightened sense of lust?

She looked up at the slow drip of the IV. She had just woken up, but she felt like she had been awake for such a long time. Her eyelids grew heavy. Who had brought her here? Had it been Randy? Had he finally grown a heart and decided he gave a fuck about someone but himself?

Somehow, she found this hard to believe. Her throat felt dry as sandpaper, but she didn't feel like doing anything about it. In fact, she would be content never to do anything in her life. Her whole body felt like it was crushed under a boulder, and she couldn't say she had the willpower to move.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes. It seemed as if the whole world had forgotten about her.

That was fine.

She didn't care about anyone else either. What had caring ever gotten her besides heartache?

(X X X)

Christy struggled to open her eyes as she heard a soft rapping on her door.

"Coming," she mumbled, forcing herself to get up. Even after meeting with Dawn and eating, she felt like crap. And she was sure she liked like it too. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and dark circles were visible under her eyes.

"Hey Dawn." she yawned as her fellow diva greeted her.

"Christy, can you come with me for a sec?"

Christy groaned inwardly. "Can this wait? I'm kinda sleepy right now."

Dawn chewed her lip. "I really want you to come with me. It's very important," she added.

Christy rested her head against the door. "Will this take long?"

"I don't know."

She thought about the warm bed that seemed to be beckoning her. But one look at Dawn's worried expression caused some of her drowsiness to go away. "Is something wrong?"

"I think so. That's what I need you to help me figure out."

Christy sighed. "All right, I'll come."

Dawn's face remained worried, and Christy couldn't help the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. She slipped on her shoes and shut the door behind her, following Dawn into the elevator.

Once the doors were closed, Christy's sense of dread grew. Dawn was unusually quiet, and she seemed to be avoiding her eyes. "Dawn, what's wrong?"

Dawn shook her head. "I just want you to know that we all really care about you, Christy."

"Who's 'we?'"

The doors opened and the small brunette led her through a door. Stepping inside, she saw John, Torrie, and Teddy, seated on the couch.

Dawn shut the door behind her and took both her hands. "It's all going to be okay, sweetie."

Christy eye's naturally gravitated to John, who was sitting low in his seat, cap drawn down so she couldn't see his eyes.

"What's going on?"

"Christy," started Teddy. "We have all heard of Vince's drug policy. We suspect someone of taking drugs, we ask them to take a test." He paused as if considering his next words. "It would be in your best interest to comply."

His words struck Christy like a blow. "What are you talking about?"

"We would all like for you to take a drug test." Christy looked at Torrie, who had a look of contempt in her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because you've been using drugs, and we would like to get you some help," replied Torrie shortly.

Christy's features darkened. "I have not been using drugs."

"Then what was wrong with you yesterday?"

John's voice resounded through the air, momentarily catching Christy off guard.

"I don't even remember last night, John. Care to refresh my memory?"

"You were acting like you were on drugs," he stated simply.

Christy's teeth clenched. "I don't know if you all think this is funny, but if Vince even suspects that I'm using drugs, he'll suspend me."

"He'll get you help," interrupted Teddy, coming towards her. "You have our support, if you really didn't take them, take the test."

"You should believe me," said Christy, her voice rising. "Why the fuck would I use drugs?"

"Because you're hurt?" said Torrie, clearly enjoying herself. "Because your life didn't turn out the way you wanted it to? Because everyone thinks you don't deserve to be here just because you won some contest?" John placed his hand on her knee and squeezed to stop her.

"That's enough," he said lowly.

"I'm just giving possible scenarios," she protested.

"You're giving bullshit scenarios," snapped Christy. "In case you haven't noticed, you qualify for all those scenarios too. Why don't you take a drug test?"

Torrie's cheeks reddened. "You stupid-"

"Shut up," cut in John. He looked at Christy. "Just take it. If we're wrong, we're sorry. But the only reason we're doing this is because we care."

"If you cared," started Christy heatedly. "You would believe me."

"Christy, just please take it. Prove us all wrong," pleaded Dawn. She reached for her again, but Christy pulled away.

"I'll take the damn test. But when it comes out negative, I'm going to have to start looking out for myself. Because obviously, I cant trust anyone here."

Teddy nodded. "Alright. Just come with me tomorrow, and hopefully we'll get this all sorted out."

Christy jerked the door open. She took a last look at John, her heart wrenching painfully as his blue eyes stared back at her.

(X X X)

"Do you think she's awake?"

Trish shrugged as she stared at the door, unwilling to open it.

"Maybe we should open the door and see?"

Lita's voice sounded a bit impatient, but Trish didn't budge.

"Do you think she's okay?" she asked.

"There's only one way to find out," said Lita, opening the door herself.

Taking a deep breath, Trish stepped through.

Stacy's eyes were trained on the IV drip. Her face didn't seem to register that they were both there, and had it not been for her open eyes, Trish would have thought she was asleep.

"Stace?"

Her eyes slowly focused on the redhead who had called out her name.

"How are you feeling?"

The frail blonde's only response was a faint shrug, as her gaze swept over to Trish. She almost shuddered. There was nothing in her look. Her face registered no emotion, and while Trish had been afraid she was going to start yelling, her vacant eyes were much worse.

"Cat got your tongue?" Lita tried to joke. The humor was lost in the room, however, as none of them laughed.

"What are you doing here?"

Her question caught them by surprise. Even her voice sounded different. Hoarser… colder.

"When we hear that one of our best friends is in the hospital, we don't exactly look at it as an opportunity to go out clubbing," answered Lita.

Stacy nodded, shifting higher on the pillows. "I'm fine."

Trish stepped forward. "You're _not_ fine Stace. The doctor told me you haven't been eating and you're under a lot of stress."

"I'll get over it," replied Stacy.

"I know that I probably contributed to that stress, and I just want you to know that I understand what happened with you and Randy. Lita knows too and she understands."

"I'm so happy you learned something from all this," said Stacy, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Trish and Lita exchanged puzzled glances, but Trish kept talking.

"When we get you back, everything is gonna be the same as before all this shit happened."

"We're gonna stuff you with so much food," promised Lita, smiling.

Stacy turned towards them, not a trace of amusement visible.

"Nothing will be the same. How naïve are you, Trish? Everything happens for a reason, and if you cant see that, then obviously you're blind."

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Trish, disturbed at Stacy's tone.

"I mean, I'm not letting anyone do what he did to me anymore. I'm not going to be the Stacy that everyone runs to with their problems. Maybe I should take a page out of Randy's book and start caring about myself only."

"Well that's a piece of bull," interrupted Lita. "You want to be known as a complete jackass?"

"Maybe," said Stacy. "Jackasses don't get hurt do they? They don't let themselves get attached to anyone, so there's not a chance for it to happen. And really, why would I want to get hurt?"

"Newsflash," said Trish, anger beginning to seize hold of her. "We've all been hurt by him. You think I liked it when he treated me like shit? You think Lita liked it? Join the fucken club Stace, women get hurt by men but we have to have some kind of support."

"I don't want to join a club," retorted Stacy. "Because I don't need your support. I don't need your pity, nor do I want it. I don't need_ or _want anything from you guys or anyone else because I'm gonna be fine on my own."

"Did they stuck an IV up your butt too? Cuz you're acting like a total bitch right now," said Lita, raising a brow.

Stacy only rolled her eyes. "I need to have some rest. Tell Eric I cant make it to tomorrow's show. On second thought, _I'll_ call him later. Thanks for stopping by." She turned away from them, making it clear she had nothing more to say.

Both women stood there in stunned silence. They had expected a joyful reunion with their friend.

What they encountered made them wonder if this was really Stacy at all.

(X X X)

"Stacy's in the hospital."

The words echoed in his mind, refusing to let him rest. He had attempted to drown them out by picking up Candice and Maria, but to no avail. He had barely cum before he was rushing to put his pants back on, their faces enough to disgust him.

Now he lay on his bed, alone for once. His hands were folded on his stomach, his eyes focused on poles at the foot of his bed.

He hated canopy beds.

He didn't reach for his phone when it went off, and he didn't open the door when someone knocked.

It was all her fault. _She_ had been the one who had let herself go. _She_ had been the one who didn't say no to him. _She_ had been the one who had been stupid enough to let such a simple thing like sex do this to her.

So why was guilt gnawing at the back of his mind?

It drove him crazy. He had steeled himself against feeling guilt. Besides love, which was just as stupid, guilt made people do crazy things.

Like that time when he had accidentally stepped on his neighbors prized roses. If he had walked away, no one would have known it was him. But his seven-year-old over-active imagination had convinced him that he would get arrested if he did not confess. When he had gone to Mrs. Rodde's house, with his head hung in shame to tell of his offense, he had almost been proud of himself.

Almost.

Until that bitch had ratted him out to his parents who grounded him for a month and made him do her gardening work for two weeks.

No, he had erased guilt from his life completely. And he wasn't happy that the old familiar feeling was back.

He had to do something. He had to convince himself that he had nothing to do with her trip to the hospital.

Maybe the only way he could do it was by taking a trip to the hospital himself.


	12. Chapter 12

_All right, don't make fun of me, but I've been totally hooked on Disney songs since starting this chapter. They really do deliver a good, meaningful message... and they're fun to sing at the top of your lungs to :D A few lyrics especially struck me from "Colors of theWind." Maybe I'm completly retarded or something, but I found that the words kinda tied into this chap and the things happening between a certain couple. The way one is so cocky b/c he's "done it all", and the other is struggling so much to try and understand. Anyways, tell me if you see the connection...or if I'm completely wrong and need to stop listening to Disney for life lessons. This chap was a hard one for me b/c I've come to a decision. You may care, you may not: This story will be no longer than 20 chapters. I'm not saying it will be exactly 20, or 19 or 18. To tell ya the truth, I don't really know. But now that I know the pre-determined length, it was a little hard to decide if I should bring in new conflicts, how serious I really want things to get, etc. I really appreciate everyone who reads this story, and I hope you guys aren't too mad at how long this damn thing took. Sometimes I think I'm a friggin' hitchiker; I know where I want to go, I just don't know how to get there. I leave you now with the lyrics that stood out to me and the new chapter. Enjoy : )_

**_You think I'm an ignorant savage_**

**_And you've been so many places,_**

**_I guess it must be so_**

**_But still I cannot see..._**

**_If the savage one is me_**

**_How can there be so much that you don't know..._**

**_You don't know..._**

"Stacy Keibler." 

The young woman's fingers typed in the name as her tired eyes scanned the monitor in front of her. Her mouth turned downwards as she shook her head slowly.

"No, there's no one in any of the rooms by that name."

Randy Orton uttered a frustrated sigh. "Are you sure?"

"If they're in a room, they're on the list," she stated, her voice clearly telling him she had other things to do.

He leaned forward as he lowered his voice.

"Look, it's really important I find her. If this is some sort of patient confidentiality bullshit, just tell me."

Her eyes narrowed. "We don't appreciate that kind of language around here sir. And _no_, it's not some sort of confidentiality issue, are you sure you have the right hospital?"

Randy turned away momentarily to regain his composure. All he wanted was to see her and get out. Now even _that_ was difficult.

"She's blond," he offered suddenly turning back. "Got real long legs?"

The receptionist's expression changed. "Oh, you mean _her_? She walked past here about an hour ago with some guy."

Randy frowned. "What guy?"

"He had blond hair too. Had it tied back in a ponytail. About the same height."

Randy nodded. That could be a couple of guys he worked with, or a complete stranger. None of the options were good. Why didn't she just go with one of the girls?

He shook his head. Why would he be bothered that she was walking around with some guy? It wasn't like he actually_ cared _about what she did when he wasn't around.

(X X X)

The bored redhead looked steadily at the small blond seated across from her. Every now and then, she would crane her neck to look around, and it was starting to get annoying.

Finally, after almost watching her fall out of her seat while she performed an exorcist like turn of her head, she decided to talk.

"Trish, who the hell are you looking for?"

"Huh?" The Canadian's head snapped to her so quickly, Lita was afraid she had given herself whiplash.

"Who are you looking for?" she repeated, irritated.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Reaching to take a strawberry from the small fruit basket in between the two, she avoided eye contact.

Lita rolled her eyes. "Seriously, you've been acting paranoid since we got here."

Trish shrugged. "I'm fine."

Lita threw her hands up in exasperation. "Damn it woman, is this about Stacy's bitch fest the other day? She'll come around. Stacy just needs some time to think."

"I know she'll come around," agreed Trish. "But it sucks that she had to be so stupid about this."

Lita nodded. She almost screamed when she saw Trish cast a quick glance over her shoulder again. "But I don't think you keep looking over your shoulder cuz you think she's gonna attack you. What the hell did you do? Rob a bank?"

"No," grumbled Trish.

Pushing her chair back, Lita glared at her. "You know what? Deal with your paranoia and_ then _come talk to me."

Trish was about to argue but instead popped another strawberry into her mouth watching as Lita pushed past Chris Masters who yelled something about putting her in a Masterlock.

A small smile touched Trish's lips as she shook her head. And she thought_ she _was a drama queen.

Her smile faded as she leaned back in her seat. A heavy feeling was lying low in her stomach, and she had the distinct feeling that someone was watching her.

She almost jumped out of the chair when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. Looking up, her heart started to beat faster.

"Trish."

She eyed him warily. This couldn't be good.

"Hunter."

He eased into the chair Lita had previously occupied, sending her a smile that made her uncomfortable.

There was something about Hunter. Trish didn't know what it was, but she was sure she wasn't the only one who felt it. There had been many people who felt ill at ease when he was around. Maybe it was his position of power, or because he really did look like he would take his sledgehammer to anybody, anytime. Whatever the reason, Trish found herself wishing he would leave her alone.

Unfortunately, he reached to grab a grape, bringing his chair closer to the table.

"How've you been?"

"Fine, how about you?"

"The usual. Have to keep this business running. Seems like nobody here cares about it anymore, you know?"

Trish bit her lip. Was someone getting fired? Her eyes widened. Was_ she _getting fired?

"I think people are doing the best they can," she responded quickly. Her throat suddenly felt dry and she reached for the water bottle, knocking it over in her haste. Hunter chuckled as he picked it up off the ground and held it out to her.

Trish's fingers brushed his as she attempted a smile. "So… how's Steph?"

Hunter shrugged. "Fine, I guess. She's been a little pissy lately, but I guess it comes with being married to someone you hardly get to see." His eyes watched her as she twisted the cap off.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to see the person you love," she offered. Maybe if she said what he wanted to hear, he would leave her alone.

He nodded slowly, reaching to take another grape in between his fingers. He examined it, and Trish watched as he squeezed until it burst. He smiled at her as he put it down and wiped his hands.

"I've been meaning to ask you something."

Trish felt her body get rigid. She and Hunter rarely talked, and she found that adequate enough. "I'm listening."

He cleared his throat as he leaned forward in his chair.

"You know what I think about the recent additions Vince has made. I don't believe they deserve to be here. They're being handed everything the company has to offer so quickly, while I had to work hard to get what I deserved."

Trish almost laughed. She knew the kind of power he held. All he had to do was snap his fingers and he would get any belt he wanted at any pay per view, against any superstar. She refrained, however, because of the way his eyes glinted as he continued.

"I _do _believe Vince has made a couple of rare good finds. You, for example, had no idea what you were doing when you first got here, but we took the time and money to make you great."

Trish beamed from his unexpected praise.

"However, you're being overshadowed as of lately by all the girls running around half naked."

A frown replaced her proud smile. There was no use denying that.

"That's why I want to make you a proposition.

"I want us to join together and show these amateurs how it's really done. I'll set an example for the guys, you for the girls. You're not making much use of the belt now anyways. We can show them exactly why we really are the best in the business."

"And what exactly would this involve?" asked Trish, cautiously.

"I'll be the muscle, you be the spokesperson. We all know the fans love you, but for some reason, they seem to think I'm never up to anything good."

"You usually aren't," pointed out Trish, curtly.

Hunter chuckled. "I admit, I have a pretty bad rap, but I'm only trying to make wrestling as great as it can be. I don't want to see this company crumble because no one knows what makes a good feud anymore."

Trish shook her head as she started to respond, but Hunter held up a hand.

"You don't have to say anything now, just think about it. Would you rather be pushed into shitty storylines with no real competition, or would you rather be known as the woman who single-handedly breathed some life into the dying woman's division?"

Trish bit her lip as he walked away.

It was definitely something to think about.

(X X X)

"It's positive."

The world seemed to come to an abrupt halt as soon as the words had slipped from his mouth. Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to keep an emotionless expression.

"What…what's gonna happen?"

She heard the question, but it took a while for her to realize that she herself had spoken. An overwhelming urge to scream took hold of her, but she managed to reign it in.

"Well, I'll have to tell Vince," Teddy paused as he shook his head. "I-I don't know what he'll want to do, but it's likely that he will send you to a rehab clinic."

Christy's chest started to rise and fall heavily. This wasn't possible. The only time she had ever done drugs was in high school. And she hadn't even wanted to do it then. Her boyfriend had forced her to.

"How accurate is the test?"

Christy turned to her left to see Dawn Marie biting her lip. She almost smiled. It seemed as if Dawn was worrying more than she was.

"They're fairly accurate."

"Can I go now?"

Both heads snapped in her direction as Christy spoke. A second longer in here would guarantee an outburst from her. And she couldn't have that. On top of being a druggie, she didn't want them to think she was crazy.

"Um… you can go, but you can't leave the hotel," answered Teddy, sending a look to Dawn.

"I don't need a babysitter," retorted Christy. She felt Dawn's eyes on her, but she refrained from looking at her.

"Christy…"

"Just stop," said Christy coldly. She stood abruptly, gripping her purse tightly. "I don't need your help Dawn. I know neither of you will believe me when I say this, but I have no idea why the fucken test came out positive. If you're so ready to believe that I'm an addict, then go ahead. But isn't it possible that I was drugged? Isn't it possible that the test was wrong?"

"Stop it," commanded Teddy, his voice rising. "No one drugged you, Christy. As much as we would like to believe you didn't do it, the test results don't lie."

"Tell Vince," sneered Christy. "I don't give a shit anymore. "Send me to some second rate rehab clinic. As soon as this is over, I'm quitting."

(X X X)

Stacy Keibler licked her lips as she watched the cars from her view high above. Her fingers ran lightly along the steel railing as a cold breeze flew softly through the sheer shirt she wore.

A long sigh left her as her eyes fluttered shut. Getting Chris to come get her had been no easy task. Apparently, she had woken him up at one in the afternoon and he was in no mood to do much of anything. It wasn't until she had offered to do him a favor that he agreed.

Shit, he had even brought her flowers along with a goofy smile on his face.

A small giggle left Stacy's lips as she shook her head, looking over her shoulder.

He was lying on the bed with his mouth wide-open emitting loud snores. A thin sheet was wrapped around his midsection haphazardly, making it impossible not to see that he was wearing nothing underneath.

A warm feeling touched Stacy's cheeks as she bit her lip and cast her eyes downward. For all his outward bravado and devil may care attitude, Jericho was a very attentive lover.

Another sigh left her lips, this one more sorrowful than the last. She leaned against the railing for a second before pushing off and sliding the glass doors open. Moving silently to the foot of the bed, she yanked the sheets off to let the cold breeze awaken him.

"I'm cold!" came the loud whine. Chris bolted up to snatch the sheets from her hands before she had a chance to react.

"Chris, you have to get down to the arena or you'll be late."

"Don't see why you don't have to go," he grumbled, stubbornly burying his head deeper into the pillow.

Stacy rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. "I don't care where you go, I just want you out of here cuz I feel like being alone."

Jericho's head popped up. "Are you kicking _me_ out of_ your _hotel room?"

Stacy nodded curtly.

"Wow," Jericho sighed, running a hand over his face. "This is a first for me. Usually I'm the one who has to kick the broad out."

"Who you callin' a broad?" grumbled Stacy, picking up his clothes.

"All right, I'm goin'," conceded Chris. He pulled his pants on, standing up to stretch languidly. He turned to Stacy, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Maybe we'll do this again."

Stacy shrugged, offering only a halfhearted smile. "You're a cool guy and all Chris. But I think I'm gonna try some other flavors before I decide."

A confused look flitted across Chris's face before realization dawned. "You mean you're gonna sleep around?"

A throaty chuckle answered his question before Stacy looked at him seriously. "I'm getting a little tired of being thought of as innocent little Stacy. I'm young and willing. Why not?"

"Spoken like a true slut," muttered Chris, shaking his head.

Stacy frowned. "What's the difference between what you do and what I do? The only_ real _difference is that you have a penis and I don't. I'm sick of that double standard."

Pulling his shirt over his head, Chris shook his head. "Hey, I've got no problem as long as you let me hit it once in a while. I'm just warnin' you that some people may not have the same mindset as we do-"

"I've given up caring what other people think of me," interrupted Stacy, anger in her voice. She turned around quickly to force down the tears burning in the back of her eyes. Clearing her throat, she turned to face him again. "Can you go? I feel like taking a shower."

"Aw… can't I join you?" Chris laughed as Stacy swatted his arm. "I'll see you later, Stace."

Stacy sat down on the edge of the bed, watching as he almost tripped trying to put on his shoes. Hearing the door close, she let exhaustion take over. She hadn't slept well at the hospital and she hadn't had a chance to rest yet. Lying in the same bed with Chris for too long had driven her out to the balcony.

She chewed her lip as she thought about her conflicting feelings. It was strange to put into words, but she felt a desire for revenge. Granted, Stacy had always been one to remember what people had done to her, but she had never really been vengeful. She had always forgiven. It was the forgetting part she had trouble with.

The only reason she hadn't immediately kicked Chris out was because he had fallen asleep almost the second they were done. And after all, she was quite new at this.

Hopefully overtime, she would learn to have a heart as cold as ice.

Hopefully overtime, she would be able to think what her life had become without wanting to break down and cry.

(X X X)

The small redhead buried her face in her hands as she fought desperately to maintain her cool. She could still see Teddy and Dawn with those looks on their faces. Those pitying looks directed at_ her_.

She let out a small cry as she let her head fall back to look at the ceiling. Why the hell was this elevator moving so_ slow_?

She listened intently to the gentle hum of the machinery in an attempt to lose herself. She wanted to be anywhere but here. Anywhere was better then where she was headed. She knew her mother would found out about this. It was inevitable.

A creeping feeling of dread slowly took hold of her. Who else would they tell? Everyone on the roster would probably know by the end of the night. Whether or not it was a secret, she knew they would find out. _He _would find out of course…

Christy let out a deep breath as the doors opened to let her through. Her steps were shaky as she walked slowly to her room. Facing Teddy and Dawn had proved too much to handle. She was almost grateful she wouldn't have to go shoot a show tomorrow.

Until she realized she wouldn't have to shoot another show for a long time.

The emotions she had pushed down suddenly crashed over her so hard, her knees buckled. She reached for the wall to try to balance herself. Leaning hard against the wall, she closed her eyes tightly.

How long would her life be put on a standstill? Would anyone even want anything to do with her after she was out?

But the most persistent question was still drumming in the back of her mind incessantly.

How was this possible? Weed once when she was seventeen hardly qualified her as a drug addict. Yet that was exactly her label now. She was a druggie who denied it, even when the results were in the hands of the general manager.

Christy let her forehead rest along the wall as she swallowed the painful lump in her throat. It wasn't like she had any choice. She had to go whether she wanted to or not. Maybe this business really wasn't for her. She never would have thought framing someone was part of the contract she had signed when she had won the diva search contest.

But here she was now. A victim of unfortunate circumstances.

Hearing footsteps approaching, she started to her room again. There was no use hanging around the hallways looking like her life had just ended. She wanted to attract as little attention as possible. Right now, she wanted to disappear.

Her trembling fingers had slid the keycard in when a hand suddenly caught her arm.

"What happened?"

Christy's eyes closed again, wishing him gone. She couldn't deal with him right now. She didn't know if she was ever going to be able to deal with him.

"Mind your business." Her voice came out unsteadily, holding none of the coldness she had intended.

His fingers tightened around her arm, making her squirm. She looked away as his eyes got to be too much to handle.

"This _is _my business, Christy," he growled. "Stop tryin' to be a smartass and tell me what went down."

Christy rolled her eyes. "As if you care. If you were really that concerned you would have been there." She smirked when he let her go and stepped back. "What; were you too busy fucking Torrie?"

Christy's eyes widened as he suddenly stepped close to her. His breath fell across her face as she tried to stand her ground.

"Don't gimme that when you're the one getting shitfaced behind my back."

Her mouth dropped at his words.

"First off," she started lowly, well aware she was shaking with anger, "you need to get the fuck away from me." Bringing her hands to his chest, she pushed hard, causing him to stumble back from surprise. "Second, this is_ none of your damn business _. And if you're so ready to believe I get shitfaced everyday, then you don't really need me to tell you that the test came out positive, do you?"

"The test came out positive?"

Christy stamped her foot in anger. "Yes it did; but you already knew that didn't you?"

Shaking his head, John ran a hand through his short hair. "Did you do it?"

Christy brows knitted together in confusion. "Are you deaf? I said it came out positive."

John snorted. "Are_ you _deaf? I asked if you did it, not the test results."

"Obviously I did if its positive," mumbled Christy looking down.

A silence fell upon both superstars, until Christy cautiously lifted her eyes to his, only to find him staring at her expectantly.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"What the hell are you talking about?" exclaimed Christy, frustrated.

"You said the test came out positive. But I wanna know if_ you _took drugs."

Christy let his words sink in. Could there actually be a doubt in his mind that she took the drugs? Everyone else was so ready and willing to believe she had. Why should he be any different?

"I…" Christy smiled sadly. "Does it matter John? They're sending me to rehab whether I did it or not. No one's gonna believe me. Shit… I wouldn't believe it if someone claimed they didn't do it with the test results coming out positive."

John let a small grin break through his grim expression. A fluttering started in Christy's stomach causing her to turn away quickly.

Damn smile.

"I guess that's what makes me different. I take people at their word, Christy."

Her eyes snapped back to his. "You expect me to believe this when you were the one who wanted me to take the test in the first place? Where was all this bullshit then, John? Where-"

Her words were cut off as he placed a finger to her lips.

"Shut up."

As if his words had some sort of magical effect, Christy seemed to lose all control of her voice as he leaned down to her.

A small sigh escaped her as he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. His tongue glided delicately along her bottom lip, until hesitantly, she parted them.

Feeling his tongue slip inside, Christy let herself get lost. She forgot about the future that was waiting for her. She forgot about the consequences. She forgot about the injustice. The only thing she felt at the moment was the heat emanating from both their bodies as their tongue explored each other's mouths.

She was fully aware of the way his fingers caressed the small of her back sensuously. Her skin felt a hundred times more sensitive to his every touch. He sucked on her bottom lip persistently, eliciting a breathy moan. Her face grew warm as she heard his low chuckle.

He pulled back as he stared into her eyes. "I guess every time I want you to stop talking I should kiss you."

Christy pushed away from him softly. "John… we just cant. I'm gonna be gone for who knows how long. I don't want this right now."

"So I'm gonna be the one doin' the waitin'?" She glanced at his eyes to find a fleeting hint of annoyance before it disappeared.

"What do you want me to say? I didn't do the damn drugs. I'm not even sure I_ want _to come back-"

"Oh," he interrupted. "You're comin' back."

Christy shook her head in defeat. "It doesn't matter. Don't you get it? Even if I _do _want to come back, Vince might not want me anymore. What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"You're supposed to try," responded John, a bit harshly.

Christy laughed bitterly. "I'm not in grammar school, John. That "you can do anything if you just try hard enough" bullshit? Just drop it."

"I don't just drop shit," he responded coolly. "And I don't like people who do."

"I would_ like _to try," started Christy loudly. "But its hard when you're on lockdown and everyone already thinks you did it anyways."

"Christy," sighed John. "You didn't do it, did you?"

Christy's eyes flashed. "No! I-"

"Then we're gonna find the motherfuckers who did."

Christy let out a frustrated groan. "Did you turn into Sherlock Holmes all of a sudden? And how do you know I'm not lying to you?"

John tilted his head to the side as if studying her. "Sixth sense? I dunno. I got nothin' better to do an' I'm lookin' for some excitement."

"I'm glad this is so damn fun for you," scowled Christy, glaring at him.

He squeezed her chin slightly, laughing when she twisted away. "Don't act like it aint fun to play detective."

"Not when its_ my _ass on the line!" exclaimed Christy, angry that he seemed to be taking the whole matter so lightly.

"Look at it this way; there are really only a couple of people it could have been. It was done in the hotel with a roster full of wrestlers. Most of them don't really know you. We make a list of the ones you do know. Narrow it down to the ones you might have pissed off, and there you go."

"You really think its that easy?" asked Christy, raising a brow skeptically.

"No," confessed John. "But its obvious, aint it? It cant hurt if we just try."

Christy looked away for a moment. "Torrie's the only person that doesn't like me." She looked at him pointedly. "You know that, John."

John nodded. "I thought about her. But I just don't think she's capable of it. As big a bitch she makes herself out to be, she's really a coward."

Christy smiled. "Fine, John. We'll go play private investigators. But when this all blows up in our faces…" she took a deep breath, trying to shake off the doubts. Instead, she smiled at him. "Will you promise to write to me in rehab?"

A dimple appeared as John smiled. "I'll even sneak you in a couple of naked pictures to help you sleep at night."

Christy rolled her eyes as she turned to slip the keycard into the lock again.

Her stomach was in absolute knots at the moment. She had no idea how she managed to plaster the look of nonchalance on her face while talking to him. There was a very real possibility that she wouldn't see him for months; maybe never again.

But as his lips caught hers once more for a last kiss, the world, and her fears, seemed to melt away.

(X X X)

"So… how does it feel?"

His eyes darted to hers for a second before returning their steady gaze to her breasts.

"Feels good."

Torrie rolled her eyes.

"I know that, you moron. But, I mean, what do you feel when you do it? Have you ever?"

Ken nodded, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "I've done it a couple of times when I was a kid. Shit gets you real hyped up and feeling excited. Feels like you can take on the whole world and keep going forever."

Torrie raised her brows. "And the downfalls?"

Ken shrugged. "Same as with all other types of drugs. Gotta be careful you don't overdose."

A small smile came over Torrie as she batted her eyelashes at him. "So… you think you have any more?"

Ken smacked his gum loudly as he looked her over. "You sure you want some?"

Torrie looked down for a split second before meeting his eyes again. "I'm sure of every action I've ever taken Ken. I'd like to know how powerful I can feel."

Ken smirked. "I'm going to have to stay with you. After all, you need to keep hydrated and you cant overexert yourself."

Torrie waved him away. "Whatever, but if you even try to lay a finger on me, I'll kick you."

Licking his lips, Ken nodded. She had no idea of knowing that ecstasy usually made people lose all their inhibitions. She had no way of knowing ecstasy was a known date drug.

"Sure," he complied graciously. "I'll ask my friend to give me the best shit he has and I'll bring it over to you."

Torrie smiled. "But we have to do it when no one is around. I don't want anyone catching _me _with that stuff."

Ken returned her smile. "Well, don't worry about it. I'll be there to help you along the way."

"Perfect," purred Torrie. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she stood. "I'll be expecting a call from you? Make sure no one knows what you're doing. I want to try it, but I'm not getting caught like that stupid bitch."

"How's that going?"

Forgetting her haste, Torrie sat down again. "It's going great! She was supposed to take the test today, and of course, it came out positive. Any day now, she's going to be sent away." Her grin disappeared. "That's why I cant let anyone find out I'm doing it. Just make sure to be careful."

Ken Kennedy nodded. "Don't worry, Torrie. No one will find out."

(X X X)

An involuntary shiver passed through Stacy Keibler as she stepped out of the shower. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she took the white towel and wrapped it securely around her slender frame.

Her lips curled in disgust as she pulled a comb through her wet hair. She had to stop thinking there were monsters lurking behind every corner. She'd be damned if she went through the rest of her life scared.

She put the hairbrush done after being finished, wincing as the clatter seemed to echo throughout the small bathroom. Moving softly, she tightened the towel around herself as she made her way to the bedroom.

Keeping her eyes on the ground, she sat down at the vanity, ready to apply lotion when she looked up at the mirror.

"Shit!"

She whirled around quickly, almost tearing the towel off her. She managed to catch it, however, and held it tightly to her heaving chest as her eyes narrowed.

"What are_ you _doing here?"

His crystal eyes locked fiercely onto hers as he gave her a once over.

"What do you mean, Stace? The door wasn't closed; I thought you were open for business." He held up a piece of clothing, throwing at her lap.

Stacy flushed as she looked down.

Looked like Chris was going commando underneath his pants.

Forcing herself to meet his angry gaze, Stacy stared at him defiantly.

"How long have you been here?"

Randy swallowed hard to keep from losing it. "Why? You got another fuck coming up?"

Stacy smirked. "Actually, I do. So would you mind getting out and shutting the door after you?"

Randy's face twisted into a scowl. "What the hell is wrong with you? You go to the hospital and you come back a slut? What the hell did they give you?"

Rolling her eyes, Stacy pumped a small amount of lotion into her palms. "They gave me a large dose of reality. And if you were_ that _concerned about my welfare, you would have been there."

"Don't give me that bullshit," hissed Randy, fists clenching.

"What's the matter?" Stacy asked, feigning a look of concern on her face. "Moody cuz you haven't had a blowjob today?" A rush of anger coursed through her. "Well guess what sweetie?_ I don't give a fuck anymore_. Call me a slut. Call me whatever the fuck you want, asshole. If you think for one minute I'm going to lose sleep over your disapproval of_ my _personal life," she snorted, "you have your head farther up your ass then I thought."

"Listen to me carefully," Randy began, slowly rising and walking to her. "If this is some cute way of trying to get me back-"

"Shut up!" screamed Stacy, jumping up. Her hands bunched the towel together as her eyes fastened on his. "This has nothing to do with you!" she looked down for a split second at the blatant lie she'd just said. But looking at him again, she was determined not to let him see her break. "Now_ get the fuck out_!"

In a heartbeat, Randy closed the space between them and grabbed her arms harshly. Pushing her back, she stumbled onto the vanity as he forced her knees apart to stand between her thighs.

Stacy struggled to get free, hardly aware that the only thing keeping her towel up was the fact that she was crushed against his chest.

"What's wrong Stace?" taunted Randy, pushing his pelvis deeper into the cradle of her thighs. "You wanna act like a damn whore, I'm gonna treat you like one." He let go of her arms, only to wrap her hair in his hands, pulling her head back almost violently.

Stacy gasped. This wasn't supposed to be happening. She shouldn't be feeling scared to death of him. He wasn't even supposed to _be _here.

"Get out," she managed to say, hands pushing relentlessly at his chest. The next instant, his hands jerked her lips to his.

Stacy uttered a whimper of pain as bit her. His hands were still pulling at her hair and it was all she could do not to groan.

"How many other guys have you fucked since leaving the hospital?" Randy growled, letting his teeth grind on her swollen lips. Before he could answer, he attacked her mouth again, forcing her it open to suck hard on her tongue.

When he finally did pull back, Stacy collapsed against him, her lungs starved for air. She laid her head on his shoulder, a hand held to her wildly thumping heart.

Randy wrenched away, almost letting her fall to the floor. He caught her and took her arms once again, leading her to the bed.

"Just another notch on your belt, right?" he sneered. Her eyes widened as he started to undo his pants.

"Stop," she whispered, a panic stricken look coming over her expression. Why did she ever think she could do this? Chris had been different. He had been willing to go at whatever pace she set.

"Don't start the damn virginal shit now," he snarled. His hands dropped to his sides as he shook his head. "You want to be a slut? I've been with enough of them to tell you exactly how to act." He pointed at her towel, which she was clinging onto as if it would save her. "Get rid of the towel and spread your legs. Tell me how much you fucken want me. Tell me how you're gonna be the best fuck I've ever had. Tell me you've been waiting for me since the day you fucken laid eyes on me, Stace. _Tell me_!" his voice steadily grew until finally, he was shouting.

Stacy closed her tightly, unable to stop the stream of tears. "I-I cant," she gasped. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. "I cant be like that." Her voice was a mere sigh as her sobs continued.

"I know," whispered Randy softly.


	13. Chapter 13

"You're_ so _amazing." 

Her breath sent a jolt of need straight to his groin and it was all he could do to keep his hands still at his sides. His fingertips itched at the thought of touching her.

But no, he had to be patient. As much as her slow, lazy kisses tortured him, it felt good. It felt better than anything Randy Orton had felt in a long time.

Her fingers traced a circle on his bare chest, a sweet smile appearing on her face when his muscles jumped.

"Stacy," he warned his voice husky. Tentatively, he brought his hands to her waist, applying only the lightest of touches. He couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips as she rolled her hips against him.

"Stace," he repeated, his voice strained to the limit. His body was on fire. His skin was aware of her every caress, her every breath.

She put a finger to his lips gently, shaking her head and hushing him. "Don't talk baby." She leaned down, moving against him deliciously. Catching his lips in delicate kisses, she pulled back before he could respond fully. She bit her lip almost shyly. "How can I explain in words what you do to me?"

Randy swallowed hard. Her voice was barely audible, but damned if he wasn't hanging onto her every word. Not trusting himself to speak, he merely smiled and tucked a blond hair behind her ear, his heart beating faster when she turned and snuggled against his hand. Cupping her cheek, he ran the pad of his thumb across her lips.

She flicked her tongue out, catching him off guard, coyly looking down at her hands which had now resumed tracing slow circles on him. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of her hands, going dangerously closer… closer…

His eyes snapped open as he heard a loud knocking. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes groggily.

Looking down at his boxers, he saw the very real effect the dream had on him.

Another loud knock interrupted his thoughts as he got up. He made sure to position himself behind the door.

"What?"

"Hi Randy!"

Her voice made him cringe as he kept his hold on the door. "What do you want?"

Candice Michelle only smiled brightly as she placed a hand on her hip. "Well, we haven't really been hanging out anymore," she paused as she noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. "And I just woke up this morning… in this mood." She flashed him a devilish smile.

"I don't feel like having company right now," retorted Randy.

"I just thought you might wanna hang out… cuz you know… we haven't done anything and Maria told me you guys haven't done anything either." She shrugged. "Just thought you might be getting a little lonely."

"I appreciate your concern," said Randy sarcastically. "But I'm getting a little tired of the same fuck. So go take your generosity and free time and find someone else." He closed the door hard, making sure to lock it.

A low growl escaped him as he kicked at the low coffee table.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, realizing being barefoot and kicking solid objects wasn't a good combination.

He limped to the kitchen, angry at the fact that he had been pulled out of a great dream only to be having a horrible morning.

Sitting down heavily on a stool, he let his head rest on his arms. It had been a whole week and he still remembered every miniscule detail.

He trembled at the thought of her in a towel. Had it been any other situation, he would have torn that thing off before she knew what was happening.

But he couldn't. Instead of taking advantage of a broken woman, he had been overwhelmed by the urge to comfort her.

Which was strange in itself. Randy Orton was a heartless bastard. He relished the power and control he had over his life and the women around him.

His eyes tightened against the image that seemed to pervade him. The last time he had ever been that gentle with a living thing was when he was eight. When he held his dying dog in his arms, hoping against hope he would live.

But even as he prayed with all his might, even while he promised to an invisible force that he would be a good son, and bring his grades up, and stop teasing the kids at school, life had been slowly slipping away.

Randy shook his head. Never again had his hands been so careful, so cautious, so gentle.

Until her.

Bringing his hands down hard on the tabletop, he gave a heavy sigh, allowing his head to roll back in frustration.

He had held her just as tenderly. Like she was about to die. Because in truth, Stacy had looked like she was torn in two on the inside. He remembered being slightly surprised when she had melted into his arms readily. After all his harsh words, all the threatening and insults he had spewed at her, he had expected retaliation.

But she spoke no words. Her shoulders shook with silent tears as she tried to hold in her sobs. That tore at his heart. The soft whimpers she would make, as if embarrassed he was seeing her like this. He wanted to tell her to let go, to scream and yell at him, but instead he said nothing as he stroked her back.

He had been aroused, as she trembled under his hands. He had been angry with himself, that he couldn't control his desires.

But the softness of her skin at his fingertips, the heat of her body pressed right against him, the smell of her just minutes after she had showered, had been too much.

So he had left. Got up and left her with tears in her eyes, and muttered something about being late.

He let his head fall to the table. What the hell was his problem? He saw an emotionally broken woman and all he could think about was her lips and how much he wanted to capture them. Her thighs and how much he wanted to feel them. Her voice and how much he wanted to hear her calling his name in ecstasy as he gave her exactly what her body craved…

He took a deep breath as he looked down at his boxers again.

He needed to take a shower.

A very,_ very_ cold shower.

(X X X)

Her eyes glazed over as she continued to stare out into the city. This was the second episode she would be missing. She hadn't thought about how much she would miss the arenas. The screaming fans. The people she had become friends with wishing her good luck before she stepped into the ring.

A painful lump formed in her throat as the familiar stinging began in the back of her eyes. She wouldn't cry again. She had done enough crying to last her a lifetime.

Christy Hemme closed her eyes briefly before letting out a long breath. There was nothing she could do. She had talked to Teddy, he had told her she needed help. She had talked to Dawn, who had broken down crying before asking why she hadn't come to her with her problems. And she had talked to Vince. Who had told her she would be taping her last show next week. In the most embarrassing storyline imaginable.

After cutting a short promo of her and Torrie trash talking each other backstage, they would face off in a bra and panties match. The winner would get a shot at the woman's belt at Survivor series just a few weeks away. Christy would then go insane. She would be picked up by two guys in white coats, in front of more then 14,000 fans. She would be forgotten as just another diva search contestant.

A grim smile pulled at her lips. Poor John. Not only had he been persistent in his attempts to clear her name, he had been running himself ragged with being WWE champ. And it showed. He was being so irritable lately.

Of course he always had his ways of making it up to her…

As hard as she tried, she couldn't remember ever being kissed the way he kissed her. A shudder went through her body as she shook her head slightly. She was on the receiving end of all his pent up aggression. All the anger he held towards Vince for making him do all those meaningless appearances. All the resentment he felt towards the writers for running his character into the ground. And all the disappointment to the fans that were slowly but surely turning their backs on him.

He had often complained to her, more like yelled really, that he had had a good gimmick in the beginning. That he liked being the controversial heel who was getting the loudest boos at every show. And now that he was face, he couldn't say anything mildly offensive. The one time he had let a "shit" slip into his promo, he had told her the producers had nearly castrated him afterwards.

Christy tucked her legs underneath her. Poor John. He was desperate for a way to really say what he wanted to say. Not the, "shit smeared on paper," they forced him to read, as he so eloquently put it one night when the boos had been particularly loud.

A sudden noise interrupted Christy's train of thought as she jerked out of her musings. When the noise persisted, growing louder every passing second, she let out a short laugh. Giving herself a minute to straighten her hair, she opened the door.

"Do you know what birth control pills look like?"

"… What?"

John shut the door behind him as he brushed past Christy, collapsing on the couch nearby.

"Birth control pills; do you know what they look like?"

Christy's brows furrowed. "Yea, why?"

John patted his knee, indicating that he wanted her to join him. Christy shook her head and sat on the small chair, eyeing him.

John uttered a frustrated sigh as he rolled his eyes. "They want me to go out tomorrow night and smile like an idiot again," he stated.

"Why don't you just tell them you want to try something new with your character?"

John snorted. "Sweetheart, I've told them every way I can think of. They keep refusing because they think the fans still like me. I asked them if they listened to the crowd reaction at the last houseshow and they all looked at me like I was a dumbass."

"Maybe they've got something big planned," tried Christy.

"Don't even talk about that shit anymore," said John, his lips curling up in disgust. "The only big thing they have planned is coming up with another way to make me look like more of a pussy."

"Why did you ask me about birth control pills?" asked Christy suddenly.

A smirk crept onto John's face as he leaned forward. "I was looking through Torrie's things-"

"You were what?" asked Christy, swatting his arm. "You cant look through a woman's personal things!"

"Like you care," countered John, smiling when Christy fell silent. "That's what I thought. So anyways, I was lookin' through her stuff, and I found a bottle. It was some pills for headaches or something. I was about to put it back when I remembered her taking them before. They were small and white. These pills were long and purple. Then I thought they were birth control pills because, I gotta admit this, Torrie enjoys daily sex. But then I remembered I had this one friend in college who sold drugs out of his pockets. He advertised some pills as "purple royalty" or something. They were ecstasy."

Christy's breath caught in her throat. "That- that was-"

"The drug you tested positive for," finished John. She opened her mouth to say something but he stopped her. "That's not all. I got one of the pills on me right now, but when I was puttin' the bottle back, her phone rang. I didn't answer but I looked at the number and I had no idea who the hell it was. She hadn't put a name on it yet, so I looked at her incoming calls and that same number showed up at least twenty different times in the past week. So I called the number on the hotel's phone and guess who answered?"

"Who?" asked Christy, breathlessly.

"Kennedy," John answered proudly.

"How did you know it was him?"

"Cuz that moron answers his phone in the same voice he repeats his damn name all the time. KENNEDY," imitated John in a loud voice. "I went down to the cafeteria to get something to eat cuz I was hungry as hell with all my detective work and I bumped into Matt. We got to talkin' and guess what he told me?"

"What?" asked Christy impatiently.

John's eyes twinkled as he held his arms open. "Gotta give me some love first, girl."

Christy nearly jumped on him. "_What did Matt say_?"

John leaned back against the couch, content at having her in his lap. "I brought up some of the guys backstage and what he thought of all the new guys ever since he came back. He told me he was cool with all of them except a couple. JBL has really been gettin' on his back about Jeff supposedly doing drugs. Told him he knew they probably got fucked up together and it was only a matter of time 'fore a drug test got him fired just like his bro. I asked him if anyone else was givin' him beef and he mentioned our guy.

"Said Kennedy had pulled him aside and told him he could get him the hook up." John laughed. "Also told me he punched him in the face after that. He might have been jokin' about havin' the hook up," John paused, "but what if he wasn't? I mean, what a coincidence that he brags about having the hookup and his number just happens to show up on Torrie's phone?"

Christy sighed. "So how is all this going to help me clear my name?"

"It was Torrie," said John matter-of-factly.

"I thought you said she wouldn't do that," pointed out Christy.

"I was wrong," shrugged John. "I'm not perfect baby. I was just blinded by all the cleavage she showed me." He winced as Christy hit his abs. "Kiddin'… just kiddin'.

"Even if all this was true, how are we going to prove it before next week?"

"She has the pills, so that means she's gonna use them. She already drugged you so all we gotta do is wait and catch her."

"Why would anyone believe us?" asked Christy skeptically. "I mean, wont everyone just think this is some last desperate attempt to get my name cleared?"

"We'll catch it on camera or somethin'. It doesn't matter."

"It DOES matter," insisted Christy. "We might know who did it, but how are we gonna prove it?"

"We just have to wait," stated John. "All she needs is a little encouragement. When me an' her used to get into big fights I would leave and come back to find her passed out. She drinks her sorrows away. An' now that she's got that drug she'll use that. All I gotta do is get into a big fight with her."

Christy shook her head exasperated. "John, we might be able to catch her on drugs, but-"

"You look so cute when you're worried," interrupted John, placing a small kiss on her cheek.

Christy wiggled out of his grasp only to be pulled back again. "This isn't as easy as you make it sound, John. What if-"

She was silenced as he coyly slid his tongue inside her mouth. A sigh escaped her lips as she felt her body immediately respond. His hand slipped under her shirt as he let his fingertips lightly trail over her bare skin.

"John…" breathed Christy as his lips latched onto her neck, sucking lightly. "This isn't the time… nor the place…"

"It's always the time and the place," whispered John against her neck.

Christy groaned as she forced his head up. "We need to figure this out if you ever want to get some_ real _action." John groaned dramatically as he ran his hands up and down her arms.

"Fine, baby girl. We finish playin' detective before we start playin' nurse and patient." He smiled slyly. "An' I know_ exactly _where I'ma be hurtin'."

(X X X)

Trish Stratus picked at her nails absently. Her foot tapped monotonously against the leg of the low coffee table as another loud squeal was heard.

She winced, trying hard not to be bothered by the conversation taking place behind the row of lockers a few feet away from her.

"So they told me I was going to be wrestling Victoria today and I was gonna get the shot for the woman's championship before Survivor Series. I've been here for like, a couple of months, and it's really time they started to pay more attention to me. They should seriously give that belt a new waist to rest on."

A deep knot of anger formed in Trish's gut as her foot started to tap against the table a bit harder.

"If you win, you need to start color coordinating your outfits so you look good. You could even change the belt if they let you! That thing is too old fashioned anyways. You can get a pink strap instead of the black one."

Trish's mouth began to ache as she pressed her teeth together to keep from screaming.

"They really need to let go of some of the older divas. I mean really, they've had their time to shine and it's time to let the younger girls get a chance. Who wants to see a bunch of old ladies wrestling anyways, right?"

Trish pushed herself off the couch as she made her way over to source of the voices.

"You're three years younger than me, Candice," she snapped as both Maria and Candice stared at her with wide eyes.

"And you look even older then me with all that crap you put on your face. Listen sweetie, if you ever feel the need to talk shit about any of the other divas behind our backs, at least make sure your stupid ass is alone."

Candice backed away as Trish advanced. "Because I would personally_ love _to see an_ old lady _beat your ass down to doing pornos again." She smiled at Candice's shocked expression. "That's what you were doing before you found yourself with Vince's dick in your mouth for a job, isn't it?"

Turning on her heel, Trish slammed the door behind her as she stalked away from the women's locker room.

It was time to talk to Hunter.

(X X X)

The tall blonde winced as the click of her heels seemed to echo loudly down the endless hallway. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she tried to make as little noise as possible. The last thing she wanted was to come face to face with-

"Good to have you back Miss Keibler."

Stacy bit her lip as she forced a smile and waved at a crew member.

"Hi Jesse."

He looked around, confused. "Um… why are you whispering?"

"I-I have a really bad headache," she lied.

He nodded. "Well maybe you should talk to the trainer."

"No, I'll be fine. I think I just need sit down for a while."

"See you around then."

"Sure." Stacy watched as he went in through a door. Letting out a deep breath she raised a shaky hand to her forehead. Was he looking at her strange? Did he know? Would he tell anyone if he knew?

Letting a sigh of frustration slip past her lips, Stacy began to walk slowly to the women's locker room. If she could get in there, she would be safe. All the other divas would be somewhere else getting ready for their segments.

Her breath hitched as she heard loud footsteps about to turn the corner. A wave of nausea took hold of her stomach as she realized who it was.

"I got hurt yesterday rehearsing, but I think I can pull this match off."

Greg was getting closer as Stacy looked around for an escape. Spotting a door to her near right, she tried the doorknob, relieved to find it turned easily in her hand. Being as quiet as possible, she slipped in and barely managed to close it before the duo spotted her.

She heard Rosey say something about letting him do most of the work before fading away.

Her forehead resting against the door, Stacy willed the tears away. A mouse. She was acting like a scared little mouse. She had barely had contact with anyone after that incident a week ago. Chris had called, probably to see if she wanted to rendezvous again, but she had ignored him. She hadn't gone out of her hotel room and had taken an early flight to today's location. There was no doubt in her mind that Randy had told everyone.

A soft scuffle behind her caught her attention as she stiffened. She wasn't alone.

"Hiding?"

She turned around to find him in a track suit. Noting the pack of cigarettes in his hand, she focused her eyes on that. She couldn't look him in the eye. Not yet.

"I didn't know you smoked," she managed to say.

Randy shrugged, looking down at the carton as if seeing it for the first time.

A heavy silence hung in the air as Stacy grew increasingly uncomfortable. Noticing her surroundings, she realized she had stepped into the control room. The soft glow of the monitors cast the room in an eerie light as the quiet whir of dozens of machines was heard faintly.

"They all go around making sure people are ready at about this time," Randy stated.

Stacy looked down at her hands as her face grew warmer. All week she had been trying to ignore him. And here she was, alone in a dark room with him without anyone's knowledge.

"You've been avoiding me," Randy said, dully. He crossed his arms across his chest. "Why?"

A sarcastic laugh escaped Stacy before she could think to reign it in. "You can't possibly be serious with that question."

Randy straightened his shoulders, eyes looking fiercely into hers, scowling when she still refused to meet them.

"I wouldn't ask if I already knew the answer."

Stacy shook her head slowly, unwilling to let him see how fast he could get to her. Everything would be fine if she just kept her cool.

"You saw me at my worst, Randy. Why would I ever want to see you again?"

Her words struck him hard. He took a second to compose himself before sneering at her. "I've seen worse, Stace. Don't consider yourself too memorable."

Stacy blushed at his comment. "And you wonder why I avoid you? Every time I talk to you I feel like shit."

His eyes softened. Through the subtle light, he could barely see her face, but he could tell how much effort it was taking her to keep still and not bolt.

"It's one of those bad habits of mine," he said, giving her a half smile. He chuckled. "I guess that's why woman always run from me."

Stacy rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You get more ass then you know what to do with."

The beginnings of a smirk started on Randy's lips but he forced himself to keep it at bay. Taking a small step towards her, he nodded.

"I guess what I mean to say is, I may have all the woman in the world, but sometimes it doesn't matter."

She raised a brow. Was he joking? Taking in his somber expression, she decided he wasn't. How strange…

"Sometimes its nice to know the name of the woman you're fucking."

Her face fell at his words. Nope, still the same jerk.

"You're really an asshole," she said, pressing her back against the wall as he got closer. The air almost crackled with electricity. She felt the blood pulsing through her as she caught the scent of his cologne.

"I thought women went for assholes," murmured Randy. His palms were sweating. His eyes were intent on her face, eager for the reaction he yearned for. But she kept her eyes downcast.

"You thought wrong," whispered Stacy. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the heat of his body. They were less than a foot apart. She could feel tiny beads of perspiration forming at the nape of her neck. Her mind screamed at her to run away from the person who caused her so much hurt. But her legs were rooted to the ground.

Randy felt a familiar tightening in his boxers as his nostrils flared at the scent of her. "I had a dream about you."

Stacy swallowed hard as she nodded faintly. She licked her dry lips before speaking. "And?"

Randy smirked as he slowly ran a single finger down her arm. She shuddered at his touch moving away slightly. "You were doing things to me." Finally taking another step, he pressed his forehead to hers. Her whole body was trembling in expectation.

"You were touching me. Telling me how I make you feel." He paused as he heard her moan softly. Taking this as a signal to go ahead, he placed his hands on her waist. "I was just about to show you how hard I was when I woke up."

Feeling her whole body tensing as he lowered his head, she pulled back. "This isn't going to happen again, Randy."

Ignoring her, he let his tongue trail slowly down her neck.

Stacy's eyes glazed as her knees went weak. "Oh God…"

"There's no one that can make you feel like this, Stace." He pulled back to cup her chin and make her meet his eyes. "You know this."

Vivid scenes of the multiple times they had been intimate together flashed through her mind as hazel eyes locked with cold blue. Her body went numb to his continued caresses as she saw herself after every time. Crying. Broken. Miserable.

"Get_ away from me_." Displaying strength she didn't know she had, Stacy wrenched herself away from him.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Stacy asked sarcastically. "_What's wrong_?" she shrieked. "You've made my life a living hell since the moment I started talking to you!"

"Don't blame this all on me," retorted Randy, growing defensive. "If you hadn't spread your legs every time I even hinted I wanted you, maybe you would still have friends."

Not a word was said as the two stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, after unbearable silence, Randy said something he hadn't said in almost three years.

"I'm sorry."

Turning his back to her quickly, he dug in his pants for a lighter. He managed to hold a cigarette to his lips and light it. Taking a long drag, he let the smoke out in a heavy sigh.

"You're what?"

He whirled around, stalking to her so fast, she thought he would walk right into her.

"I'm_ sorry_," he repeated, lips curled in disgust even as he said it. "Is that what you wanted to hear? You want me to act like a little bitch just so you wont get your feelings hurt?"

"I-I wasn't-"

"Save it," he snarled, yanking the door open. "This is the last time I'll be bothering you."

(X X X)

She wasn't taking this bullshit anymore. She had been trying to ignore the state the woman's division was in for the past few months. But if they thought she would even entertain the thought of losing her title to someone like Candice, they were_ dead wrong_.

Determination was plain in the face of the small diva as she made her way to Hunter's locker room. He would be there. He rarely went out unless he had a match or a segment. Nobody liked him, and he didn't like nobody. It was really for the best. If Hunter ever started paying special attention to any one person, it was usually bad news.

Her steps slowed gradually as she grew closer to his door. Lip caught between her teeth, she pondered her options. Sure, she had been angry when she had heard what they were saying. But was the situation so grave that she needed the help of the Cerebral Assassin?

Her eyes flashed at the thought of Victoria jobbing to any of the diva search girls. Yes. She needed to do this for all the women who were passionate about wrestling.

She took a deep breath as she raised her hand to knock.

"What are you doing?"

She froze as she recognized the voice. Hell if she had could ever forget it.

She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder whirl her around. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him.

"I asked you a question Trish."

"Is this any of your business Dave?" she retorted curtly. Her cheeks heated as he towered over her. His glasses hid his eyes, but she could tell he was pissed.

"Do you know whose locker room this is?" he asked coldly, motioning to the door behind her.

Trish rolled her eyes, trying her hardest not to let herself be intimidated. "I know how to read."

"Than you must not be thinking straight." He gripped her arm not tightly, but enough to let her know he wasn't playing. "Going in there is like selling your soul to the devil, Trish. It's not a game."

Trish let out a sarcastic laugh. "Actually, that's exactly what it is Dave. He's the game and I think it's time for me to start playing."

Dave's lips curved into a cynical smile. "You think that's cute, huh? You think he's just gonna hand you everything he promises? C'mon Trish, don't make me change my opinion of you."

Trish's eyes widened as she tried to tear herself out of his grasp. He didn't let go however, instead bringing her closer.

"What the hell would I care what your opinion of me is?"

"Don't give me that," snorted Dave. "At the risk of sounding chauvinistic, I know your feelings toward me."

A furious blush took hold of Trish and the fact that she knew she looked like a tomato only made her more embarrassed.

"It doesn't matter what the hell my feelings towards you are," she snapped, all the while trying to escape from his hard hold. "What I do with my life, personal and business, have nothing to do with you."

She gasped as he pulled her against his chest.

"Just one question Trish. Are you going to listen to reason?" His hot breath washed over her as she shivered against her will.

"Your reasoning is fucked up." Her eyes widened as he swooped down. "What are you_ doing_?"

Taking her arm, he draped it over his shoulder as he leaned down to wrap his arm around her butt. He stood suddenly, and Trish found herself being lifted into the air with him.

"Put me down!" She wiggled to try to get herself free. But he only tightened his hold.

"Dave this isn't funny!" she exclaimed, small hands pounding on his broad back. She almost choked on her words when she felt his hand come down swiftly on her ass.

"We're going to_ my _locker-room Trish. There we can sit down and discuss your business decisions like two adults."

"You call this mature?"asked Trish, her bottom still stinging from the impact.

"You brought this on yourself," he said, an amused twinge in his voice.

"You've got to be fucken kidding me Dave. I-"

She was silenced once again with another heavy spank. Tears sprang to her eyes as she forced them down. This shouldn't be happening right now. She should be completely indignant that he was treating her like a child. But the only thing she was feeling was the heat between her thighs growing increasingly warmer with every step he took.

She heard him open the door and kept still. She barely had time to think before she found herself set on a couch. She immediately crossed her arms across her chest, glaring up at him silently.

"Don't look at me like that sweetheart," he said, cupping her chin with his finger. She jerked her chin out of his grasp stubbornly, instinctively sticking her lower lip out.

Dave groaned. "How am I supposed to lecture you on what a big mistake you were about to make when you look like I just ran over your puppy?"

"You're not supposed to_ lecture _me at all," Trish snapped. She shrank back involuntarily when he shot her a hard look.

"You should be thanking me. You don't know Hunter like I do. That guy will tell you he can give you the world, but he never tells you_ when_. And by the time you get it, all the bullshit you went through makes it seem meaningless."

"So this is what I get for trying to make something out of the woman's division?" fumed Trish, standing up. "I get spanked because I'm trying to keep girls who don't know what the hell they're doing out of the ring?"

"Listen," said Dave lowly. "I'm not trying to knock you for that. In fact, if you went to anybody else besides Hunter, I'd encourage you. But sweetie, this guy is bad news. No matter what he says."

Trish nearly jumped when he placed a hand on her waist.

"You're not gonna completely disregard my advice, are you?"

Trish rolled her eyes, trying her hardest to ignore the tingling sensation his hand was causing.

"I wouldn't call it advice, Dave. It comes off as more of a command." She placed her own hands on her waist, brushing his off.

Dave shook his head as he chuckled. "You're a stubborn one, Trish."

"Don't confuse stubborn with having the balls to do what's right," retorted Trish.

A slow smile crept over the big mans face as Trish grew anxious. She needed to get out of here. She needed to splash some cold water on her face or_ something _. Her skin prickled as Dave licked his lips.

"You know what I like about you Trish?" he asked suddenly.

Trish eyed him warily. "What?"

He stepped back as he motioned to himself. "Look at me, and look at you."

She raised a brow.

"I'm big Trish. I've got a couple hundred pounds on you and at least a foot." He stepped close to her again and placed his hand on her lower back, making her gasp softly. "I can easily throw you over my shoulder again and spank that little behind of yours until you're_ begging _for me to stop." He let his hand wander so it was resting on her butt. He gave it a hard pinch, pausing to smirk when he heard a muffled moan escape her lips. "You know this don't you? And yet you still stand up to me as if a Chick Kick would really knock me out. That, sweetheart," his other hand wrapped around her neck as he brought their lips close, "is_ very _admirable."

Trish felt herself growing weak as he pressed their bodies closer. After what seemed like hours, she felt his tongue slide across her bottom lip. Her mouth opened before she could even think twice. He wasted no time as he slid his tongue in, demanding a reaction out of her.

Trish's senses were almost flooded with pleasure. Both his hands were on her butt now, pushing her into him. His lips overpowered her, making her back arch as he kissed her harder.

A sudden fire erupted in Trish as she brought her hands to his face, not willing to let the kiss end.

After minutes of frenzied kissing, both superstars tore themselves away. Trish breathed heavily as she laid her head on his chest. She smiled when she heard his ragged breathing above her and felt the wild thumping of his heart. She started as he took her shoulders and jerked her off him.

"We cant be doing this." He brought his forearm across his forehead, shaking his head. "We're supposed to be working right now. This isn't appropriate Trish."

Despite his harsh voice, Trish smiled. Poor Dave. He was struggling for control even when she had_ felt _how much he wanted to keep doing what they were doing. She walked over to him, placing her small hands on his shoulders.

"You need to let go sometimes," she murmured, pressing her breasts against his back. He groaned as he pushed her hands off and stepped away.

"Trish…" he warned. Trish warmed as his eyes raked over her entire body, looking as if he could eat her alive. That was enough. If he wanted to drag her into his locker room and initiate something, she was making damn sure he would finish it.

Walking purposefully to where he stood, the small blond brought her hands to his chest and pushed as hard as she could. Surprised, Dave stumbled back and sat down heavily on the couch.

Intent on what she wanted, Trish placed a single finger on his lips to keep him from protesting as she brought her knees to either side of him, locking her legs to keep him from going anywhere.

"Trish-"

"Just one question, Dave," she said, grinding her hips. "Are you going to listen to reason?"

Dave gave a strained laugh as his hands settled on the back of her thighs to stop her. "Little hellion," he growled.

Smirking, Trish allowed her hands to wander down to grip his belt. Working quickly, she managed to unbuckle it before he placed a hand over hers.

"If someone were to catch us-"

"You think too much," interrupted Trish. She shook his hand off and finished unbuckling his belt. She grinned as she leaned down, making sure to let her lips brush against his ear as she whispered. "Sometimes, you gotta let yourself think with_ this _head," she giggled as she felt his erection.

"Haven't gotten to where I am now by thinking like a dick," Dave said in a strained voice. He brought his hands to tangle in her hair as her tongue teased the lobe of his ear. Pulling her head back sharply, he jerked her lips to his in an animalistic kiss. He groaned loudly as she sucked on his tongue, sending the sensation straight down into his boxers.

"Dave…" Trish whimpered as he wrapped her hair around his hand tightly. His other hand roamed from her waist to her chest, swiftly sliding under her shirt to unclasp her strapless bra. Trish moaned as she felt him slid it down under her shirt. Her nipples were hard already and he had barely done anything.

"That day…" he said his voice heavy as hand crept to the front of her small tank top. "In the hospital when you basically told me to go to hell…" Trish blushed at the mention of it. She had been beyond angry and defensive.

"I didn't mean-"

"Doesn't matter now," he cut her off. Trish gasped as he cupped the underside of her breast. "What's done is done." She arched her back as he flicked his tongue against her nipple over the material of the tank top. Her knees tightened at his sides, not wanting him to stop.

"But I was a little mad you wouldn't even let me get a word in," he continued, though Trish had to fight desperately to keep herself from getting lost in what he was doing to her. Her hands went to the back of his head to press him harder. She almost screamed when he bit her.

"Although I must admit, you look incredibly sexy when you're angry." Trish bit her lip as he pushed her hips down further onto him, making her feel every inch of him.

Trish's mind grew cloudy as her hips started moving against his. He was hitting her right there… making her feel as if she was in another world. Her body raged for him, needing to feel him inside of her.

Not giving him a chance to stop her, Trish pulled his pants down as far as she could before undoing the string on her own.

"I'll be doing the honor," murmured Dave, pushing her hand away and sliding her pants down. The coarseness of his hands on the softness of her thighs made her whole body quiver in anticipation. Her breath caught in her throat as he delivered another sound slap to her ass.

Hooking his finger into her thong, his eyes met hers in a heated gaze as he slid them down as well. He cupped her, making Trish lean against him heavily.

"God you're so wet," he said raggedly. With minimal effort, Dave laid Trish on her back, hovering over her as he kissed her.

"Is this what you really want Trish?"

Trish's eyes flew open at his deep voice. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than him right now. Instead of answering, she wrapped her legs around him, giving him a hard kiss.

Dave chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes." Trish relaxed her hold on him as he pushed his boxers down. Letting out a deep moan, rich with pleasure, he let himself be buried deep inside of her.

Both superstars relished in the feeling. Trish in the fullness she felt, and Dave at the tightness enveloping him. Slowly, almost timidly, Dave began to move against her.

"Harder," whispered Trish faintly. She tightened her legs around him once again as he started moving faster. "Harder," she repeated, a little louder. She winced as he went in deep. She dug her nails into his back as he continued his slow pace.

Dave looked down as Trish closed her eyes, teeth biting her lower lip hard. A savage need took over him as he pumped into her harder.

Trish moaned as she felt him nip at her neck. She shook her head, mumbling incoherently about him leaving a mark. Unwilling to be denied, Dave bit her lip instead, shooting his tongue inside when she uttered another loud moan.

Trish rocked her hips as their bodies met again and again in unison. She could feel his need and it only added to hers. She ran her fingernails along his back, making him suck in a breath.

Dave let his forehead rest against hers as he felt himself beginning to lose grasp of reality. His movements quickened as he let a hand slid underneath her to bring her closer to him. With a last deep push, his whole body was engulfed in a strong orgasm that seemed to last forever.

Trish squeezed her eyes shut as she bit into Dave's shoulder when she felt herself release. The air was hot and heavy and made it almost impossible for her to catch a deep breath.

Finally, after a couple of minutes, pulled himself slowly out of Trish, aware that she was still sensitive. Reaching down to pull his boxers back up, he shot her a smile.

Trish returned his smile, a sudden thought crashing over her. What was going to happen now? Would he kick her out just like Randy had done so many months ago? Would he ignore her? Would he treat her like she was nothing but another lay?

Her fears were put to rest as he leaned over her again and placed a soft kiss on her swollen lips. He sat back down and lifter her up so she was straddling him once more. Pulling her panties and pants back on, Dave continued to give her gentle kisses every now and then.

Her heart swelled with tenderness as she felt his gentle hands on her. He was nothing like Randy.

"Not thinking about going behind my back and talking to Hunter now are you?"

Trish laughed. "You brought up some very good points," she said smiling. "And I'm glad we discussed my decisions like two, mature adults."

"I'm glad I could convince you," muttered Dave, pushing her hair away from her face. "Because if anything like this ever comes up again… I'm going to be forced to make you sit through my argument again."


End file.
